


Time Heals All

by Corantien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Trauma, First Kiss, First Time, I wish my babies were Rohirrim, Karl Urban as Éomer is hot!, M/M, Others - Freeform, Slow Build, Smut happens... Because of reasons, Sometimes Éomer Is An Emotional Retard, otp, poor Faramir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corantien/pseuds/Corantien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know what you think of me, but don't you dare decide your sister is any less capable than you to make her own decisions! You need to respect that! Think badly of me if you want but she is good and pure and deserves her brother by her side the moment he pulls his head out of his arse!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Heals All

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm still polishing this work. Updating stuff, rewriting some sentences, correct mistakes... Have patience or let me know if you found something that goes too fast or too slow. Thanks & Enjoy!

 

The open leering made young Faramir feel positively queasy. The calculating sneer of his father did nothing to ease the strangeness of the situation.

  
Twelve year old Faramir, Guard of the Citadel, stood behind his father's chair, waiting to refill cups or any other command while the Steward was in discussion with Lord Harnon of Harondor. The diplomatic bartering was of the utmost importance for Osgiliath was in need of more men to defend their riverside.

  
The youngest son of House Denethor suddenly remembered the farewell he and his brother Boromir had shared all those weeks ago. Boromir had just become of age and was managing - together with the other Captains - the situation in Osgiliath. Lord Denethor was very proud of his eldest and completely convinced that the City kept standing because of Boromir's efforts.

 

Faramir was torn out of his musings when his father raised his voice.

  
"Don't you see! We need the men! It has been more than two years since South Gondor supplied us with more soldiers. It is your duty and as your Steward I..."

  
"With all due respect, Lord Denethor, we do not have an unlimited supply of men to give. You still have not paid out all the widowers fees nor the taxes to my lands."

  
"All will be paid in due time! You must see all must go to the war effort and the maintaining of our lands and traditions."

  
"I can see that, but I must decline. I cannot agree to a new truce. My counsel has advised me not to barter with the lives of men without something in return. We need a guarantee that you will keep your word."

  
The two men calmed down and sank in quiet reflection while Faramir cleared the table. After signaling other servants to bring out the desserts and fruit plates he cleaned the table with a wet cloth in front of Lord Harnon when he felt a hand touch the back of his thigh. With a startled look the young boy threw a glance at Lord Harnon.

  
The old fat man grinned up at the boy next to him. The Guard felt nauseated and quickly looked at his father for comfort and saw the man contemplating the doings between his youngest and Lord Harnon.

  
"You need insurance?" Lord Denethor finally asked. "Insurance to show that I'll keep my word? And then we'll get the new supply of men to be commanded by my eldest?"

  
"Yes. The insurance should be equal to the cost to us."

  
In the mean time the young boy had cleared away all the plates and was now arranging the dessert trays pleasingly for the eye when his father suddenly called out his name.

  
"Faramir!"

  
In a matter of seconds the Guard stood next to his father in a reverend bow.

  
"Yes, Lord Denethor?"

  
The Steward gripped his wrist in a strong grip and pulled him closer to the side of his chair.

  
"My youngest is a Guard of the Citadel." He explained to Lord Harnon.

  
"He is a Prince of Ithilien and is destined to become a Captain of Gondor."

  
The Lord of South Gondor nodded, a slow sneer forming on his lips, showing of his decayed teeth. Faramir repressed a shudder.

  
"Faramir is not yet spoken for."

  
An ear deafening silence filled the Great Hall. Faramir was young, but he did start to understand something very questionable was happening right in front of his eyes.

  
"Father?" he asked with a shaky voice. Innocent eyes implored the Steward for more information. He did not understand what was happening.

  
"Shush, boy!"

  
Lord Harnon leaned forward with his elbow on his armrests. Hands stapled under his chin and he gazed at the young boy. His nasty gaze sliding up and down Faramir's body. Contemplating him as if he were cattle.

  
"He is very beautiful."

  
Lord Denethor smiled.

  
"Would he be a worthy insurance to your Lordship?"

  
A malicious smile as answer. The two men shook on it and then Denethor declared:  
"Faramir shall be at your disposal whenever you are here. Faramir! Listen to me! You will obey Lord Harnon's every command. Understood?"

  
"Father?"

  
"You will be visiting me tonight when the sun sets young Guard." The South Gondorian directed his attention back to the Steward "I will get the papers drawn up. You'll have your men next month. But first... I believe I shall test your insurance."

 

* * *

 

  
"You're so beautiful."

  
Faramir turned his head away so the vile mouth would not touch his. His clothes fell to the ground.

  
"Turn around."

  
Defiantly the boy kept standing still.

  
"You will comply or this will hurt even more and you do not want me telling your father, do you?"

  
The young Guard turned around and gripped the ends of the table with white knuckled fists.

  
"Very good." a push send his chest flat on the surface. Paper was prickling his naked chest.  
Fear was trampling his nerves. He heard Lord Harnon spit and a blunt object poked his most intimate place. A crippling anxiety suddenly overtook him and Faramir tried to scramble up and away.

  
"Please don't." the copper haired boy finally whispered when he couldn't get away from those filthy claws. His young age disabling the fairness of the fight.

  
"Please."

  
The disgusting breath was back near his shoulder and the boy completely lost his composure. He shrieked loudly and threw his legs backwards. Using the table as leverage he threw all what he had in the kick and it hit home. With a grunt Lord Harnon stumbled back and fell down. Within the blink of an eye Faramir had gripped his shirt, throwing it over his head while running out. The tail of his tunic brushing the back of his knees while he ran away as quickly as he could.

  
He came upon a guard and gripped him by the arm. "Please, help me! I need to get to my brother!"

  
"Lord Faramir!" the man shouted in surprise. "What happened?"

  
"Please, you must help me. He's going to follow me!"

  
"Let me bring you to your father, my lord."

  
"No!"

  
"FARAMIR!" a voice behind them yelled suddenly. The young guard pulled Faramir behind him in order to protect him.

  
"Who's there?" the soldier commanded as brusque as he could. Mustering up all his courage to defend the young guard of the Citadel.

  
"Lord Harnon. And you will give the boy back to me." the vile man commanded.

  
"With all due respect, my lord, I only answer to the Steward of Gondor."

  
"Then let us take it up to him, shall we." Lord Harnon sneered.

  
"No!" No!" Faramir struggled in the grip of the guard "Please, don't!"

  
The man hesitated but did not dare to invoke the wrath of the sometimes crazed Steward. He tried to calm the boy down to no avail. Too soon they reached the chambers of Lord Denethor.

  
"What is the matter here?" the Steward asked. "What's your name?" he snapped at the guard.

  
"Madril, my lord. I came upon Lord Faramir this evening. Running away from..."

  
"Me!" Lord Harnon rudely interrupted.

  
"Leave us." Denethor snarled at Madril.

  
Unsure of the command, Madril let go of the trembling boy's shoulder and slowly stepped outside and hid in the shadows. Determined to find out what was happening. It did not take long to hear indecipherable shouting in the dark hallway and Madril could hear something falling on the floor. A chair perhaps. A pitiful cry filled the air and then all was silent.

  
Faramir got carried out by his hair by his father and together with Lord Harnon they strode off to another part of the Citadel. Madril trailed after them all the while keeping his eyes on the silently crying boy.

  
They threw Faramir inside an empty room and the guard hid behind a corner. He could barely catch a glimpse of a chain being wrapped around the small and breakable wrists of the boys when Lord Denethor walked outside.

  
"I apologize again, my Lord Harnon, for my sons rudeness. Rest assured, no one will disturb you here."

  
Lord Harnon nodded and closed the door impatiently in the Steward's face.  
Madril saw Denethor sigh once and then he just shook it off and left. Distressed whimpers could be heard and when he heard the first sound of something hitting soft flesh, Madril rushed to the door and tried to catch sight between the cracks of the heavy old wooden gate.

  
Slap after slap, hit after hit sounded and Faramir's cries only became louder and more pitiful. The guard could not decide what to do. He could not go directly against Lord Denethor orders. Feeling helpless he slid down the wall and listened. Hoping the boy would feel he was not alone in this torment.

  
"No! NO! NOOOO!" Got Madril almost tearing open the door and killing whomever made Lord Faramir scream thusly.

  
"I like it when you beg." he heard the other Lord grunt out loudly. It sickened him to the chore.  
Howls got wretched from the small boy's chest and he wailed for hours to come. Madril tried to stop the tears from escaping but could not help it. He bit his fist hard enough to bleed and endured his powerlessness. His cowardice.

  
Grunting. Sobbing.

  
Moaning. Crying.

  
Stillness.  
Whimpers.

 

* * *

 

  
The boy got kept in the room for nearly a week.

  
Screams filled the corridors of the Citadel daily and at night. Servants, Guards and maids paused their activities for a fraction of a second every time they heard the young boy scream.  
Nobody dared to interfere. And every shout burdened their soul even more with guilt.

  
Madril could only catch glimpses of Faramir whenever Lord Harnon decided it was enough for the day. Quickly he slipped inside and tried to nurse and care for the boy who was mostly unconscious. Numerous lacerations painted his body like a canvas. Dark bruising spread out everywhere and blood trickled down his legs.

  
The guard could not clean the young boy up too much or else it would get noticed. So he gave Faramir some water and bread. He tried fruit but that got the youngest son of Denethor throwing up. Madril cleaned up whatever Faramir had let go of when the need to relieve himself was too great. Vowing silently to always stand at the side of this young man.

  
Yes, a man. For Faramir had lost all innocence.

  
When Faramir got released after that week, he never refused anymore.

  
Boromir - of course - found out. He threatened to kill his father if he did not stop this disgusting bargain.

  
Lord Denethor coolly looked at his eldest and send him back to Osgiliath. There was nothing Boromir could change and Faramir just resigned himself to his worthless fate.

  
It was scandalous. It was vile. And it became the worst kept secret of Minas Tirith.  
Lord Denethor had created the Whore for Gondor.

 

* * *

 

  
The years passed and Faramir was climbing the ladder in the army. Free enough to give orders. Not free enough to refuse them from his father.

  
He sipped from his drink when the Steward's gaze met his above the heads of the crowds. The older man pointed his chin for one short moment in the direction of a man standing near to him and immediately looked away.

  
Faramir drank down his cup in one go, braced his shoulders and went to the man his father had pointed at. Madril sadly glanced down in his own cup when he noticed his Captain following the new orders of the day.

  
Full with revulsion he saw Faramir place his hand on the thigh of the rich and powerful guest. A meaningful look was shared between them and together they slipped away.

  
When the stable boy came upon the moonlit scene in the stable, he slowly stepped back, afraid to be noticed.

  
It would forever be burned in his memory. One man bending over the young Captain of Gondor. Ruthlessly taking him from behind while the vacant eyes of the Captain stared into nothing.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir proved himself. Day after day. His men respected him immensely, the people loved him and still nobody put a stop to the atrocity. Everyone who worked closely with the young Captain loved and respected him dearly. He had many friends, but none he trusted enough to talk to about his daily torture by his father. Not even his own brother could start a conversation about it.

  
Lord Denethor was slowly losing his mind and one wrong word could get you imprisoned. Making everyone even more scared next to the threat of the looming climax of war.

  
Boromir had given up on reasoning with the man and instead tried to take Faramir as much as he could away from the Citadel. It did not spare him. Short notes were sent when Lord Denethor had use of his youngest.

  
The young Captain of Gondor would fight and plan strategies all day long. When sunset set he took a horse and left for the City.

  
Only to return disheveled, with a pained grimace and more steely determinacy set in his eyes at the sight of the first rays of the sun.

  
Ready to battle the day again.

 

* * *

 

  
Boromir was gone. Faramir had seen it in a dream. Grief and pain tore his soul apart. With a handful of men he left for the woods. Intercepting Orcs and mercenaries. Too busy with keeping his people safe his father finally started not to call upon him anymore.

  
For this the Ranger was glad. It was but one small reprieve in the hell that was called his life.

 

* * *

 

  
"I think at last we understand one another, Frodo Baggins."

  
"You know the laws of our country! The laws of your father! If you let them go your life will be forfeit." Madril tried to reason with his Captain. He could not bear to lose his dear friend.

  
"Then it is forfeit. Release them." Faramir commanded with tears in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

  
"You wish now that our places had been exchanged - that I had died and Boromir had lived." Faramir brokenly said.   

  
"Yes. I wish that." Denethor mumbled.

  
"Since you were robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead. If I should return, think better of me, Father." Faramir turned around and left the Great Hall. Memories of his brother floating in his mind.

  
"That will depend on the manner of your return."

  
The Captain faltered in his steps for a moment and then resumed his walking. He thought about Madril. The only man who stood had really stood beside him when his brother could not and now even he had left Middle-Earth.

  
Faramir was all alone and he wished he would fail so he would never have to return.

 

* * *

   
"The city has fallen silent. There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows so cold." Éowyn said with a sad glance.

  
"It's just the damp of the first spring rain. I do not believe this darkness will endure." Faramir answered gently.

  
"Are you mourning your father?" Éowyn asked after a long silence.

  
"I find I do not and I am wondering how I should feel about that." the new Steward dared to admit.

  
Éowyn already knew about the end of Lord Denethor and understood there was more to the story so she took Faramir's answer without questions.

  
"Do you wish to stay in Minas Tirith if all this will end?"

  
"No, my Lady. Too many bad memories, I believe."

  
"Then what will you do?"

  
"I do not know. For now I need to regain my strength and then I wish to be useful again."

  
Éowyn turned to her companion and stood on the tips of her toes. Before Faramir could react her lips were touching his chastely. With a soft gasp the Steward tore himself away.

  
"My lady!" he exclaimed in fear.

  
"Do not fret so, my dear friend."

  
"I.. I..." Faramir stammered.

  
"Don't you dare apologize. You have become a very close friend and companion to me these last weeks while healing. I thank you for that."

  
"You... The kiss was a thank you, my Lady?" a blushing Steward could finally say.

  
"Yes and it was a test. To see if we were compatible. It would be nice not to have to worry anymore about marriage once this is all over. I regret to inform you, we miss a certain spark." Éowyn mischievously told her friend.

  
Faramir could only gape. "Any man would be honored to... Though I must inform you, if I were to be honest, my Lady, that I..."

  
Éowyn grinned at the clumsy attempts her companion was trying to make. "You prefer men?"

  
"What? How do you... Have you heard anything?"

  
"No. You are a young, strong, rich and handsome man with titles and you have no wife to speak off. So I presume you prefer men and that's a more difficult matter were you in want of making a political liaison."

  
"I have not been free to do my own choosing while my father was alive." the Steward dared to admit.

  
Éowyn sadly looked at her friend and noticed how lonely he looked. The worry lines between his eyebrows were deep and sadness tinged his beautiful eyes.

  
She clasped his hand and lay her head on his shoulder.

"You are free now. Heal your body first and then your soul will surely follow. You only need time and once this darkness is over, as you said, you will endure."

  
Faramir lovingly glanced down at his dear friend and never before felt so close to another human being since his brother. The soft hand in his rough one felt warm and comforting. It had been a very long time since he had been the recipient of such a caring and gentle gesture.

  
"Come. There is much to speak about." Éowyn smiled up and lightly pulled her friend with her to sit on a bench.

  
Together they spoke of many things and Faramir dared to open up a bit about his past. The White Lady wept for him and held his hand during it all. When the Steward had finished his woeful tale, Éowyn told him hers. She spoke of her parents, whom had died, and her dear brother. Her eyes shone warmth and love and Faramir was mesmerized by her story. He affectionately rubbed her hand when she came to the hard parts and was disgusted when hearing of Wormtongue and his deceit.

  
"One good thing about all of this. About my fears. I will never get to be in another golden cage again. When I am Queen nobody will command me and I will marry out of love and not out of duty."

  
Faramir startled. "You will become Queen, not your elder brother?"

  
"No, he does not want the title. He only wants to serve as my first Marshall and prince of Rohan."

  
"Did he tell you why?"

  
"Éomer does not desire a position of power. He's a hard and silent worker."

  
"That is very humble of him. You are telling me I have been holding the hand of a Queen for more than two hours now."

  
The Queen of Rohan threw her head back and laughed when seeing Faramir's disgruntled face.  
They talked and talked and waited for King Elessar to return with his victorious army.

 

* * *

 

  
"Faramir!" Éowyn's joyous voice split the air. She waved him over to come and meet her brother for the first time. A broad shouldered man stood with his back to him and when the Steward neared he turned.

 

The Captain of Gondor nearly missed a step and quickly hid his ungraceful move as smoothly as possible. He had no idea of how he looked to the bystanders and Éowyn tried to hide her grin when she saw Faramir's face when he lay eyes upon her brother for the first time.

  
"Éomer . This is Faramir - my dear friend - who kept me company in the Houses of Healing while you were away. He was wounded very badly in the battle of Osgiliath. Faramir, no need to introduce you to my brother now, do I?" she smiled.

  
The Marshall felt very unsettled when he saw the older man approach them. There was something that did not sit quite right with him and he kept silent when his sister introduced them.

  
"My Lord, I mean Prince, it is an honor to make your acquaintance." Faramir warmly spoke, only slightly stumbling, and held out his hand to shake with Éomer's.

  
Éomer grunted some noise and swept his eyes up and down Faramir's body.

 

"What are your intentions with my sister?" he nearly barked and ignored the hand held out to him.

  
The Steward's eyes went wide and Éowyn shrieked disbelievingly at the same time.

  
"What is the matter with you! You're being terribly rude." she admonished her brutish brother.

  
"I'm only looking out for the welfare and future of Rohan, little sister." He replied making the 'little' sound too loud in the room.

  
"My intentions are entirely honorable, my Lord." Faramir spat back feeling as if he had just received a slap to the face. What right did Éomer have to judge him before he even knew him.

  
"We'll see. I'll be asking around about you." the Marshall grumpily replied and strode off.

  
"I do apologize for the behavior of my brother. I don't know what has got into him." Éowyn regrettably said.

  
"It's alright. It's refreshing to meet someone who does not like you at first sight." Faramir tried to joke the matter away.

  
"No. It's not alright. I've never seen him react to anyone this way. I am so sorry, Faramir."

 

* * *

 

  
It did not take long for Éomer to find out more about Éowyn's 'dear friend'. He was enraged. Furious. Saw red with contempt. Never before had he ever felt so angry about another person. Never mind that his information may be a bit incomplete, the Marshall could not allow his sister to befriend such a disgusting man. He tried tempering his anger down and went to the meeting with King Elessar.

  
Éomer 's distaste only flared higher when he entered the Great Hall. The Fellowship had gathered there and they were discussing future changes. Food and drinks were stalled out near the furthest wall and he went to stand next to Legolas. The elf never talked too much and that was just how the Prince of Rohan liked it. His head snapped up at hearing his sister giggle in a corner with _that_ man.

 

The Prince of Demsterworld suddenly let out a sharp gasp, making heads immediately turn in concern for the elf could feel certain things.

  
Legolas turned to Faramir and frowned disconcertingly. "I feel a taint." he whispered shocked with this new realization.

 

All eyes turned to the Steward who flushed deeply. Éowyn put her hand on his arm in question and Éomer turned his enraged gaze again on her companion. Faramir met his eyes and cowered in humiliation.

 

"Good." Éomer thought.

  
"What is the matter, my friend?" Aragorn asked of Legolas.

  
"I don't understand." the elf just replied. He was still shooting questioning glances at the Steward but the man in question could not tear his eyes away from the look full of contempt he received from the Marshall.

  
"Faramir?" Éowyn's soft voice suddenly sounded softly to his right.

 

The Steward snapped out of his trance and looked down at where they were connecting all the while feeling the burning glare and curious glances. He snatched his arm back as if burned and tried to stammer out an apology. The copper haired man turned and fled the room, leaving the rest feeling disturbed and confused.

  
Éomer drank out his cup in one go and followed the Steward's trail. Time for a confrontation.

 

He could not understand why this knowledge made him so furious. Maybe he had felt a shimmer of interest in the man and now... Only disappointment and anger. He felt ashamed in his stead and tried to ignore that maybe the Marshall also felt a little bit jealous.

  
"I know." Éomer said out loud in the dark room of the Archives. The place where Faramir had fled.

  
"I've heard the rumors about you. In this City." he continued.

  
Faramir halted his fleeing movement and turned to face the Marshall. Tension clearly displayed in his frame. Waiting for the blow that surely was to follow. He had never known elves could sense these things and he felt degraded from acquiring that knowledge. It meant everyone could surely know or feel or see how disgusting a human being he was.

  
"I don't want you near the Queen, however it is not my decision to make. The moment I see something untoward happen..." Éomer trailed off mid-threat counting on the fact that he made himself quite clear.

  
"I will tell her what I know unless you do so first."

  
"And what do you know?" Faramir finally choked out.

  
"I swear to you, I know quite enough. Tell her and let her sent you away." the Prince grumbled back and turned away to leave.

  
"Wait!" the Ranger suddenly shouted. "Please, let me explain." and grabbed Éomer 's wrist.

  
"Don't touch me!" the Marshall snarled. As if burned Faramir immediately let go of the hold on Éomer's arm.

  
"Please, let me explain. I don't want you to think..." the Steward started to implore. He could not bear to let Éomer think such bad things of him without knowing the full story. Faramir had never wanted to talk about it until this moment. He wanted the Prince to think better of him. Maybe, so they could be friends one day.

  
Éomer felt his fury grow and took a step back.

  
"You don't have to explain ANYTHING to me." he spat out "Whore for Gondor."

  
The Captain dropped back against the wall as if slapped. A huge invisible fist started squeezing his ribs together and breathing became very difficult all of a sudden.

  
"Please." He whispered.

  
"Don't touch me." the Marshall warned again and left. Should he have looked back he would have seen a visibly inflating Faramir, fighting against his tears and clutching his heart as if it would jump out and burn out at any possible time.

 

* * *

 

  
Arwen just made it out of the Houses of Healing. Feeling a slow tiredness but contentment settle over her bones after all the hard work she had done that day. Together with her father they had been treating the patients who were still - after all those weeks after the coronation - not yet fully healed.

 

Most of them needed rest and tender care. Some of them could never find peace again after witnessing so much horror and the Elfish lady was a very empathic being. Her powers only expanding with her age and she had to feel useful or else she would start questioning her own existence and meaning of life.

  
It were those powers who suddenly made her halt her steps back to her private chambers. She stretched her empathic abilities out and thinned them to make them reach further. Something was calling out to her. It almost felt like a creature in deep pain. Arwen followed her instinct and it led her to one of the abandoned small indoor gardens. Her heart went out to the softly sobbing person desperately trying to hide himself from prying eyes behind some plants.

  
Her soft elfish footing made sure of her not being heard by the suffering human. Arwen cleared her throat gently and the man's head snapped up. Red rimmed and panicked eyes met her kind and understanding gaze.

 

"Faramir." she whispered affectionately. She knew the man not personally but elves did not care for social necessities when feeling such a strong connection to another being.

  
"Lady Evenstar. I apologize." the Ranger said and hastily stood up to bow gracefully. His eyes were darting around frightened and he started fretting the hem of his tunic. Wondering if the Lady Elf would see his taint too as Legolas had. Shame filled his body and he dared not look up again.

  
"You have questions?" Arwen finally spook again after delving a little bit deeper in the emotions the Captain was broadcasting unknowingly.

  
Faramir let out a raspy sigh and wondered about Elves and their abilities to just perceive things.

  
"My Lady, I do not wish to tarnish your presence with my taint." he whispered as an answer.

  
"Taint?"

  
"Yes, it has come to my notice that your wise people can perceive my... taint." Shame filled him once again making his face heat up.

  
A cool hand touched his chin and made him look up. The Steward dared not refuse and looked up. Arwen wiped away his tear tracks and held his face in both her hands. Staring deep into his eyes.

  
"Yes, we do perceive a taint in your presence. But it is not your personal soul that we feel. We get a small grasp of your past and there lies the taint. It makes us wonder what happened to you and I can speak for all elves that when we perceive this kind of mark on a person - all we want to do is be of any help. We care for beings in need and you, my dear man, are in need."

  
Faramir could not help himself and choked back a sob. Feeling crippled with all the hurt washing over him all at once. Tears spilled back past his cheeks and onto the beautiful and slender elfish hands.

  
"Show me. Share your pain." Lady Evenstar quietly implored.

  
The Captain did not really understand how he could do such a thing so he just opened up his mind as much as he could and thought about his past. Memories floated by and he began to have difficulty breathing. Arwen was so compassionate and he could not halt the flow anymore and when the moment had passed his mind cleared back up again.

  
"You are crying, my Lady." Faramir noted full of regret for his actions.

  
Arwen was indeed crying softly for she had seen this man's past and all the hurt he is holding on to inside. She puzzled over how strong he was and how on Earth's name he could still be such a pure man even though he would never think that of himself.

  
"I cannot take these burdens away from you, though I can lighten them with a touch of my Grace. If you would allow me?"

  
The Ranger wanted to protest at first, that she should not waste her energy on someone as pathetic as he, but he was tired and frustrated. Helpless and hurt.

  
"Yes." A word barely heard and softly carried by the wind. Arwen smiled a radiant smile, her tears cleared away and she gently pulled his head downwards.

  
Faramir went with the soft pull and he closed his eyes when he felt her lips seal a kiss on his forehead. She lingered and warmth diffused in his body. For the first time in years he did not feel as if he would shatter in a million pieces whenever someone said something hurtful to him. Nor did he feel any need to leave this world whenever a bad memory popped up in his mind.  
Lady Evenstar slowly backed away again and both of them shared a warm and relieved smile.

  
"You know what to do."

  
And he nodded.

 

* * *

 

  
Together with the help of Lady Arwen, Faramir could persuade King Elessar of his needs. He needed not to be bound to Gondor anymore. He needed to let it go and try to forgive the past.

  
"Where will you go? What about your titles? Your lands?" Aragorn asked disbelievingly.

  
"I have no needs for titles nor lands. Do whatever you wish to do with them, your majesty. All I wish is to be free and make my own decisions. I cannot remain here. This place holds too many darkness for me."

  
"I understand my friend, though you must understand Gondor won't be glad to see you leave."

  
"It will never be a permanent farewell."

  
Arwen sat next to her beloved fiancé and gently touched his hand. They shared a meaningful look and Aragorn sighed in defeat.

  
"Very well. I forfeit your right to the claims of the lands of your ancestors and your titles. I only wish you keep your title of Captain and know that Gondor will welcome you back in its service with open arms."

  
"Thank you, Sire." Faramir said with a bow. He pointed a small smile to Lady Evenstar in thanks and bowed once more before leaving the room.

  
Not twenty minutes later he knocked on the door of the Queen of Rohan's private chamber. Her brother had gone back to Rohan together with Elfhelm and the rest of their men, to arrange the funeral of King Théoden and to ready Edoras for the arrival and official coronation of Éowyn.  
Éothain, the close guard of the White Lady, stood outside the hallway and nodded that Faramir could enter the chamber.

  
"You have an audience, my Queen." Éothain said over Faramir's shoulder and closed the door behind the Captain granting Queen and Ranger some privacy to talk.

  
Éowyn pushed away her plate, deciding her light supper was over, and gestured for the ex-Steward to recline into a seat next to her by the fire.

  
"You silly man, you did not need to ask for an audience with me." the White Lady beamed.

  
"Aye, I feel that I must do this the right way. I need to tell you something, my Queen."

  
"This is a serious matter?"

  
"Yes, I fear it is."

  
"Then explain." and her face smoothed out to listen to him.

  
"Forgive me my Lady." Faramir started and he bowed over. Hiding his face between his shoulders. "You may not want to be friends with me once the truth is out."

  
"This is a confession of some sorts?" the Queen asked confused.

  
The Ranger almost choked on a 'yes' and opened his mouth several times to start his tale. Éowyn waited patiently for him to find the courage to talk.

  
"I feel ashamed for I have committed many atrocious sins in my past, here in Gondor. I have a certain reputation."

  
The Queen nodded in understanding and silently demanded he continue.

  
"It seems that my fame." Faramir spat that last word out "Has followed me until this very day and it reflects poorly on you and your court."

  
"What reputation?" Éowyn asked him alarmed. Faramir never stroked her as a liar, or a thief nor something else of criminal nature. No, indeed, for the love of her forefathers, she could not imagine this man committing any crime at all.

  
"They call me..." here his voice broke even more "The Whore for Gondor."

  
Silence rang in the room until Éowyn gasped loudly in surprise.

  
"You, Faramir?" she could not believe it. Faramir? With loose morals?

  
"Yes, that is why we cannot continue to be friends anymore. I dare not besmirch your good name, my fair Lady."

  
The Ranger stood up, thinking himself dismissed forever and turned to leave the room. Éowyn would surely understand what he was saying and make the same jumping conclusion as her brother had done.

  
"Stop!" a clear voice commanded him and Faramir could not disobey even if he wished so at hearing the strong order.

  
He turned and met a compassionate look.

  
"I believe, my dear friend, there is more to the story than that. I wish to hear the full extent of it. Truthfully. Don't spare me."

  
The Captain of Gondor could not help it and a pitiful sob tore itself from his throat. He finally got a chance to tell his side of the story.

  
Faramir kneeled in front of the Queen and her soft hand touched the crown of his head. Without looking up he told her his story, reliving all the memories that were so fresh in his mind after the meeting with Lady Arwen. He told her everything. Kept nothing back, not even the most disgusting details and he basked in the soft touch on his head. His tale only stuttered sometimes whenever the emotion became too great and he had to clamp down on his feeling out of fear for emasculating himself even more by crying out loud.

  
And when his voice cracked from dryness and Faramir finished his last sentence he gulped in a loud shuddering breath and felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. Whatever happened now, he had come out in the clear and now Éowyn could judge him after finding out the complete truth.

  
"My poor, beloved friend." she whispered.

  
The tortured soul of the man before her, humbled the Queen and she dropped next to him on her knees and crushed him to her chest. Faramir did not now at first what to do and then with awkward jerking motions he wrapped his long and slender arms around the White Lady.  
Together they shook in friendship and forgiveness.

  
Éowyn wished to smite any man who had ever dared to lay hand on this innocent boy, now grown man, her heart went out for him and she tenderly cradled him closer to her.  
How many soft touches and how much love had he been depraved of. Faramir deserved better.

  
"Why tell me this? Why now?" the Lady of Rohan finally dared to ask after a long and intimate moment.

  
"Your brother. He found out and he said I had to tell you and stay away from you."

  
"Did you tell him the complete truth of the matter?"

  
"He would not let me. And even if I did. I do not deserve forgiveness for my past."

  
"Yes! You do! My brother is a stubborn oaf and he will surely realize his mistake from the moment he hears how it really is."

  
"No! I don't want him knowing. The shame is too great to bear."

  
"You don't want him to think better of you? Faramir, please, you had no part, only that of an innocent one, in these atrocious crimes. You are not tainted and you are as pure as any man or woman. Your heart is gentle and kind and your soul is bright. It drew you to me at once and it is beautiful. Let me explain it to him."

  
"I thank you, but no. Don't tell him. Please. Anyone but not him."

  
Éowyn remained silent for a couple of seconds and then finally let out a exasperated sigh.  
"Al right. I promise I won't tell him. Let me at least speak to Éothain about it. He's my trusted advisor and Second Marshall. He will keep the secret and you need an ally besides me in Rohan."

  
"An ally in Rohan?"

  
"Yes, I wanted to ask you something. Join me in Rohan. You told me you did not want to remain in Gondor. That it felt haunted to you. Follow me as your own free man. Counsel me, for I greatly appreciate your input and protect me as my friend, as I would protect you from any harm."

  
"Follow you to Rohan. My Queen, it is an honor but what about your brother? I don't think many men will be happy to see me..." Faramir started.

  
"Let me handle my brother and my men. I want your answer by the end of the week. I am in need of a sworn shield and you are perfect for the job. We leave then at once or you go your own way. Know that I'll do anything in my power to make you feel welcome."

  
"I... I will think about your generous offer and you'll have my answer by the end of the week."

  
"Good." Éowyn smiled.

 

* * *

   
Faramir had not shown himself for the entire week and the White Lady could not find him anywhere to say goodbye. Saddened by the knowledge that she might have frightened away her only dear friend she prepared herself to leave Gondor.

  
Horses were saddled and carriages filled with chests full of paper and clothes. Parting gifts with King Elessar and Lady Arwen had been gifted and the hopeful people of Gondor, even after all the horror, threw fresh spring flowers in Éowyn 's path when she left.

  
Many a man were dazzled by her soft and gently beauty and at the same time she rode down Minas Tirith on her horse in a fierce way. Displaying how proud and strong the folks of Rohan really were.

  
A tearful goodbye had been said to the Hobbits and Merry in particular. Their embrace had lasted longer than any other and still the White Lady had not caught a glimpse of her friend. Nearing the gates now she almost started tearing up and she greeted Mithrandir sadly in the Main Courtyard.

  
"My Lady." he smiled in the gentle way only elderly and wise people could do and with an even bigger smile he looked over her shoulder.

  
Éowyn turned around and her face lit up brilliantly when she took note of Faramir approaching her on his horse. Clad in a simple travelling tunic with the barest armor on. His sword and dagger neatly polished and hanging by his side. The white tree beautifully displayed on his chest.

  
"I do hope you forgive my straightforwardness of loading my things in one of your carts but I had heard you were in need of a sworn shield. I gladly offer you my service, my Queen."

  
Éothain, brought up to date of Faramir's life story and the resulting confrontation with Queen and brother, roared out loud and slapped the Captain on the shoulder in his own friendly way.

  
"Welcome!" the Marshall grinned.

  
"I gladly accept your service." Éowyn could finally say through her tears of gratitude.  
Happiness filled her person. With her best friend by her side, she would never again feel so lonely again and his presence filled her with strength to take on whatever heavy duties may come in the future.

  
When they drove off together, she noticed Faramir threw back one last glance to his City.

  
"Farewell brother." he whispered and turned his face back in front of him. Ready to face the future.

  
And Minas Tirith faded from their view.

 

* * *

 

  
"My Prince! The Queen has nearly arrived." an excited page boy said.

  
Éomer grumpily looked up from his papers. They had been, together with the rest of the counsel, drawing up the necessary coronation papers.

  
"Ready the musicians. Sound the bell. Let's welcome her in style." he grunted out the command to his right hand Elfhelm.

  
The travelling caravan with the Queen in the lead had been spotted at the edge of the Lands of Edoras. So the First Marshall would have the time to dress up and attend to some other light duties before he had to go out and greet his sister.

  
His mind wandered off for only a moment while putting his formal robes on and he thought about the Steward. The sad eyes and the pale skin. Éomer shook his head and thought to himself there was no need to linger in the past. What was done was done. And for the best! They had no need of such a depraved man in their midst. A little twinge of guilt grabbed hold of his heart but he stomped it down immediately. The Marshall did what he had to do and he was bloody well right to do it.

  
"They're here." Elfhelm said through the door of his private chambers.

  
Éomer sighed and went on with it. Striding through his door, closely followed by Elfhelm and went down the steps in front of the Castle of Edoras. Ready to welcome his sister with open arms.  
Éowyn rode through the gates and her brother had only eyes for her. She looked tired, but content. A slow curling smile lurking in the corners of her mouth and he could not remember her ever looking so carefree in a long time. The Prince almost smiled in return but he was not an openly displaying nor a talkative man so he tampered down his smile and let his sparkling eyes speak for themselves.

  
The group halted in front of the steps and as one person they all jumped off their horses. The tired animals immediately got led away by the appointed servants and Éowyn came closer to only halt just a meter away from her brother.

  
"Welcome home, my Queen." The Marshall said and bowed low. Everyone else swiftly following.

  
"My brother. I am glad to be home." and she hugged him. Gently he cradled his little baby sister close to his robe clad chest and smelled her hair. The scent comforting him as his mother's had once done so very long ago. They let go of each other and took a step back to really look at one another.

  
"You should eat more." he finally grunted. Not glad at all at seeing that the stress had not left her untouched.

  
"I will. Once we get inside." and she shrugged past him. Greeting the other officials and old friends. They doled out well wishes and condolences but none of it reached Éomer 's ears. For when Éowyn had stepped away, it left the Marshall face to face with the Captain of Gondor.

  
" _You_." he hissed angrily and his eyes tightened to furious slits. His hand immediately rested on the heft of his dagger and he took a threatening step forward. Putting himself almost nose to nose with the seemingly unfazed Steward.

  
"Éomer." Éothain warningly said. Glancing up at the back of the Queen and back at the situation rapidly spinning out of control in front of his eyes.

  
"I told you not to come near my sister." the Prince growled lowly enough as to not be overheard by others.

  
"I only listen to commands given to me by the Queen herself." Faramir dared to respond.

  
"You impertinent..."

  
"Éomer !" a woman's voice suddenly snapped.

  
With great effort he tore his gaze away and looked back at his angry sister.

  
"Accompany me to the banquet. Please."

  
It was not a question. Her brother huffed irritated and with one last warning glare he turned to see to his duties.

  
Sometime later, when the feast was well underway, he bowed closer to his sister while keeping his gaze locked on the, to him offending person in the room.

  
"Why is HE here?"

  
"Are you questioning my decisions?"

  
"No, just tell me why."

  
"You have forsaken all the right to an explanation."

  
"What do you mean?" he snarled back. He felt as if both of them were once more bickering small children.

  
"Faramir is my best friend. My trusted advisor and has done me a favor by becoming my sworn shield."

  
"You have so many better men to take your pick from."

  
"And I want him."

  
"Are you... Are you in love with him?" Éomer dared to ask. A cold fear gripped his gut and he waited impatiently for the answer.

  
"God no. Faramir prefers men and we do not have that spark I search for in a partner."

  
"Then why. Is. He. Here?" her brother again bit out.

  
"I want him here."

  
"He's not appropriate for you."

  
"And what do you know of appropriate? I am disappointed in you, Éomer . That you would judge a man by barely knowing him."

  
"I barely know him?? Me? Do you even know what they say about him back in Gondor!"  
Their voices had gone up a bit and Éothain cleared his throat to remind them of that fact. Éowyn furtively glanced around and saw Faramir grasping his cup in a white knuckled fist. He knows they were talking about him and it made the Captain feel terribly uncomfortable and afraid.

  
"I know more than you. Faramir came to me and told me _everything_. You deemed him not worthy. Not even to hear his side of the story and he told me how you reacted to the incomplete truth of what you've heard. Yes, that made me disappointed in you, brother. Another trait that shows you are not made out of ruler material."

  
The jab was one below the belt, but Éomer knew he was no ruler material. He never even wanted too and still here he was questioning his sister with the first real decision she had made.

  
"He told you."

  
"Yes."

  
"And you are not disgusted?" he could not believe it. Had he truly been too eager to jump to conclusions?

  
"Only disgusted by your behavior. Faramir stays and you will not bother him. And that's the last I will speak of it."

  
"Sister, you cannot..."

  
"One more word, dear brother."

  
"I don't believe.."

  
"Éomer , I hereby punish you with two weeks of riding prohibition."

  
"You cannot do.."

  
"Three weeks. Care to make it a month?" Éowyn firmly decided.

  
The Prince gulped down any other response he might have given and with one dark look sent in Faramir's way he brusquely pushed away his chair for the evening. Gave an almost insulting bow to his sister and stomped away.

  
Éowyn sighed. "He will come by, your Majesty." Éothain smiled reassuringly.

  
"I know. I just wish this wouldn't be so hard. For either of us. But most of all for my sworn shield."

  
She glanced back at her friend and he questioningly raised an eyebrow. Worried about what may have transpired. Éowyn smiled back. Trying to comfort his worries in her smile and he nodded in acceptance. They resumed the banquet as if nothing ever happened. Only Faramir's thought went out to the confused and angry Éomer stewing on his own emotions.

 

* * *

 

  
Word had gotten out that Éomer had done something to displease their Queen and soon the most ridiculous of tasks were asked of him to do. Making him run up and down Edoras all day long for weeks to come.

  
The coronation had been a modest but splendid affair, three days after the burial of their beloved uncle and King. Éowyn had not cried. Nor had her brother. But the mournful singing had lasted deep into the night.

  
Adorned in her majestic white robes and crown, Éowyn looked down the table and faced each one of her counselors. Asking them silently to start the meeting in one way or another. Elfhelm broached the subject of the restoration of Rohan after the war. And soon everyone was deeply in conversation.

  
"We need to repair Helm's Deep first." Hama said.

  
"Yes, I agree." another voice piped in.

  
"But what about the crops?" Hamling then asked.

  
"And the training of young men?" Éomer interrupted.

  
"We need to keep in mind that winter is approaching." the Queen too spoke.

  
"Faramir, what do you think should be our first priority?" Éowyn asked. The Captain of Gondor had been quiet the whole meeting, not daring to interfere and now leaned forward on the table meeting every gaze sent his way.

  
Most of them were curious and openly interested in what he had to say. That may have something to do with all the hard work Faramir had been doing in Edoras. He kept himself busy with replenishing their archives and put his teachings from the own archives in Minas Tirith and from Gandalf on paper to help the new generations. And when he had not been indoors he had been repairing the homes of people, helped on the fields, brought up water to the stables and all the while kept an eye out for their Queen. In only a short matter of time he had earned their respect and curiosity.

  
Only one man was looking at him with something close to contempt. Éomer had not yet forgiven the Captain for his well deserved punishment. Feeling like the laughingstock of Edoras all the time running up and down for this or that.

  
"I think..." he started a little bit faltering and then found strength again in his voice at the eager looks of his companions "... That Helm's Deep should not be a priority. Yes, there are still rogue Orcs and other dark creatures on the loose. But their numbers are small, their resources are exhausted and they would not risk their safe zones. For now. That grants us time. Time to strengthen ourselves and prepare. We need to prepare for winter. The fields have been left alone for too long and we need the food and the trade. Also, all able bodied men should start as soon as possible with training. I agree with Lord Éomer on that. Investing in Helm's Deep at this moment would be a waste of our time and resources."

  
Éomer 's frown turned thoughtful and it was Éothain who first agreed out loud with Faramir's assessment. "You are right."

  
"Aye."

  
"Yes, when you put it that way..."

  
"Very good, now we all seem to agree on something." Éowyn smiled. Gamling chuckled softly. People of Rohan could be very stubborn.

  
"We need to divide tasks. Designate the right people for the right things."

  
They all bowed back over the table in discussion and this time Faramir dared to pipe up once in a while with an idea of his own.

  
The First Marshall joined most of the conversation but stroked his chin thoughtfully through it all. He could not seem to place the ex-Steward at all. One moment he thought him... A whore and the other moment he proved himself a strategist. Easily convincing the others with simple arguments. Éomer had heard of Faramir's hard work in the archives and outdoors and he grudgingly started to feel a small shimmer of respect. He certainly did not like being wrong, but this Gondorian fellow deserved to be contemplated once more.

 

* * *

 

  
"I need you to train me." Éowyn blurted out.

  
Faramir was pouring her some tea while they discussed the latest improvements of their agriculture business and nearly made her cup overflow from shock.  
"Train you, my Queen?"

  
"Please, Éowyn , when we're alone and yes. I need you to train me. I can fight with a sword. My brother taught me, though now no one will teach me. They are too stuck up in traditions and they've put me on an untouchable pedestal. I need to know how to defend myself. How to defend my people."

  
Faramir returned to pouring out tea in his own cup now and remained silent for a couple of minutes.  
"Wouldn't it be improper? Me, alone with you. Close in training." he tried to will the red away from his cheeks.

  
"Improper? Oh my, you certainly seem prudish to me." the White Lady grinned "There would be nothing wrong with that. If they ask you just say you are teaching me how to fight and if they have any problems with that. You send them to me."

  
"I wouldn't dare to inflict such torture upon them."

  
"Faramir!" Éowyn disbelievingly laughed out loud and slapped his arm at hearing his joke.

  
"So you'll teach me?" she then hopefully asked.

  
"I cannot refuse you anything, my dear Éowyn ." Faramir smiled back.

  
"I only have three conditions."

  
"And those are?"

  
"One. I won't train you until you can keep up with me while running. Your endurance must be strengthened before we can really begin. Two. If we train, I prefer to do it in private. No distractions and we would not need to be worried about how we could be perceived by others."

  
"I agree to all of them. And the third."

  
"You will not push yourself over your limit. You say 'stop', we stop. When you are in pain and had enough you stop. I will not have you break yourself with your determinacy. It will take time to become very good, but you will reach that goal. Only not by disrespecting your own boundaries."

  
"You are a very thoughtful man. When can we begin?"

  
"Sunrise. We will run every other day until you can keep up."

  
"Of course. What should I wear?"

  
Faramir immediately turned bright red "You should, euhm, wear trousers. Socks. Good formfitting shoes and... Make sure your..."

  
"My what?" Éowyn knew where this was going but her sworn shield was just to adorable in this flustered state.

  
"When running it could be imperative for women to..."

  
"Yes?"

  
"You should... Bind your breasts." he choked out embarrassed and hid his face immediately behind his cup of tea. Nearly scourging his own tongue in the progress of sipping to hide his awkwardness.  
The Queen only smiled brilliantly and sipped of her own cup.

  
She could not wait.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer should know better than this and still he tried to catch a glimpse of that maddening Gondorian. All of them were very busy with their chores and they barely saw each other safe for at the breakfast table, if they weren't in a hurry, or in the evening. When everyone tried to wind down from their hard days.

  
He had noticed his sister spending more time with Faramir in the mornings. His mind could not find rest after a particular moment two days ago.

  
The Prince had just been heading down to the kitchens to grab some food for on the go when the side door had opened and a sweaty and flushed Captain had jogged inside. Stopping shortly to make a short talk with one of the kitchen maids. Apparently her name was Gerthilde, did that man knew everyone's name?

  
He received a bowl with some cut up fruit and thanked Gerthilde in a very friendly matter. Faramir turned and nearly ran smack on into Éomer 's taller and broader figure.

  
The Marshall lifted his eyebrow. Asking without actually saying something.  
The Ranger took a step back and shyly looked at the floor.

  
"I was just bringing this up to her Majesty. She had a craving after her training."

  
"Her training???" Éomer barked and his attention was caught for a second by the disapprovingly clucking maid when she heard his unfriendly voice. He turned his face back to Faramir but he had gone. Slipped passed him and slipped out the side door again with his bowl of fruit.

  
Apparently, the Queen, has got herself a trainer. It had been weeks, according to Éothain and Éomer was irate for not noticing this any sooner. Éowyn and Faramir had done their best to keep it secret and he had enough of it.

 

* * *

 

  
Short knives flashed in an intricate dance of warriors.

  
"Very good." Faramir smiled when Éowyn 's knife in her left hand flashed closer than ever before.

  
"Thank you. Can we try the dodging again?"

  
The Captain straightened up and took a couple of steps back. His tight clothing feeling sweaty and his old battle wounds were acting up a bit. He shook his shoulders loose and prepared himself in a defensive stance.

  
"Al right. Come at me." he ordered.

  
The Queen did not hold back. Desperate to prove she could overpower him after nearly two months of running and training with the small knives. If she could do this, they would swap from knives to real hand to hand combat and maybe even swords.

  
Faramir deftly avoided her knives. Sliding them out of the reach of his body with his own steel. What he had not counted for, and what Éowyn had noticed, was the little step at the edge of the Great Hall. It was not much but enough to distract him for a fraction of a second when he stumbled.

  
His right hand was just that one moment of time too slow to catch the next incoming attack.

  
"Bugger." the Ranger hissed silently and drew in a sharp gasp when he felt the short sting in his side. Red was rapidly spreading out over his white shirt and he put his hand on top of it.

  
"Oh my! I am so sorry! I did not mean to. Please. Let me help. I'll call a healer." Éowyn almost started trembling in her worry.

  
"No need to. It was more sting than cut." her friend reassured her.

  
He turned his back to her to lift his shirt so she could not look at the cut. The Captain inspected the small laceration and grunted affirmatively.

  
"It's not even bleeding anymore. It's all right."

  
"Please, show me." the White Lady implored and grasped the edge of his shirt in both her hands after dropping her knives.

  
"No. Don't."

  
"It's no problem. I'll help you clean it out even if it is only superficial." she smiled back reassuringly.

  
"No! Éowyn!"

  
But it was too late and she had lifted his shirt. Her eyes should have gone immediately to the small cut, instead they roved over what was suddenly bared before her. Faramir's shoulders fell in defeat. Her face was struck with the sad reality of her sworn shield's past.

  
"There are so many." Éowyn whispered.

  
Her soft hand softly slid over his sides. Feeling the wild flesh there. Raising goose bumps in its trail. A great shudder wracked his body. Never before had he felt a soft touch on that part of his body.  
Curiously his Queen took another step closer. Putting them almost chest to chest. Her hands mapping out the canvas of his skin under the shirt. She closed her eyes and could almost feel the remains of the pain Faramir must have felt when receiving each one of these marks.

  
"The burns you spoke off?" another whisper.

  
Faramir trembled and she could feel his nod more than see it.

  
She let her fingers trail forwards and up his chest.

  
"A whip?" her voice broke.

  
Her hands slipped out of his shirt and she placed them on top of his wildly beating heart. His eyes were still closed.

  
"Éowyn." the Ranger whispered with a voice full of pain.

  
He did not know what to do in this particular situation. So he did what he thought would be appropriate for a friendship such as theirs. Gently he took a hold of her hands on his chest with his and raised them to his face. Softly he kissed both of the warm and pale palms and place them back over his heart. Pressing them close as hard as he dared. Trying to convey how much he trusted her and hoped this would not push her away from him.

  
"Fara..."

  
"What's going on here! Get your hands of my sister!"

  
Faramir immediately took a couple of steps back. Raising his hands in surrender when he saw a livid Éomer close in on him.

  
"Éomer, no!" Éowyn shouted but it was too late.

  
He could've stopped it. But he didn't and the fist pummeled him straight to the ground.  
The Ranger did not put up a fight and another hit split his lip.

  
"ÉOMER ! STOP! IT IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!"

  
The doors burst open and Elfhelm and Éothain sprinted inside. Seizing the situation in less than three seconds and gripped Éomer before he could do any more damage. Another punch had blinded Faramir's left side when he felt the heavy presence get lifted from his chest.

  
"He was touching you!"

  
"He was training me, you idiot!"

  
"But..."

  
"JUST LOOK AT HIM! You just hit a _defenseless_ man!"

  
"I..." And Éomer really looked since a red haze had claimed his eye sight. He saw a bloodied Faramir getting helped from the floor by Éothain. One eye socket turning purple and his cheek clearly bruised. Blood slipped down his chin on the floor and making tiny droplets on his white shirt. He took note of the knives of the floor and the scent of sweat in the air and the way Éowyn was dressed for battle.

  
"I..." he stammered again. Elfhelm was still holding him back until he had returned to his senses and he shook himself free.

  
Everyone was waiting for him to do or say something when the First Marshall did what he had never done before and ran off. With his tail between his legs.

  
Later that day, when he was still hiding in one of his favorite remote locations in the Castle, he could not stop staring at his bruised hands.

  
And he could do no more than choke on guilt.

 

* * *

 

  
Nobody ever talked about why the Queen's sworn shield suddenly turned up at dinner with a bruised face.

  
Nobody questioned why her brother was not there either.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir had been standing on one out the outposts. Trading some small talk with the guard on duty that night. He had come out there to breath in the clear and cold air. Enjoying the last rays of the sun for winter was almost upon them and the days would shorten.  
His musings interrupted by the snapping to attention of the guard next to him.

  
"My Prince!" the man shouted suddenly terrified of being found out talking on the job.

  
"At ease. Go take a walk." Éomer grunted. His orders immediately followed and the man left after one hesitating glance towards his newly made friend.

  
"I'll talk to you later, Merthir." the Ranger smiled back reassuringly. His split lip stung when he smiled but he still tried to.

  
Merthir left the two men alone. On top of the tower. The ex-Steward did not turn around and kept focusing on the clear air. The long grasses in the fields before them almost singing to them. Their secret whispers gentling the frightened animal deep inside his body.

  
"I..." the Marshall tried to start.

  
"... Came to apologize?" Faramir finished for him and turned to his new companion. The last sunlight showing off clearly the not yet healed bruises in his face. Éomer found he could not look at it for long.

  
"I don't know what came over me." he finally admitted.

  
"Try to explain."

  
"My greatest fear is losing my sister. I have lost anyone else I've ever lost."

  
"You are not going to lose her to me."

  
"A rational part of me knows that. The irrational part cannot do but think you have come to steal her away from me."

  
"Are you jealous?" the Ranger asked voice filled with disbelief.

  
"I have noticed how close you have become. And I have noticed how my sister and I have come to drift apart."

  
"So the one thing is the cause of the other. It's my fault you and your sister are drifting apart?"

  
"When you state it like that, it seems petty."

  
"Maybe if you stopped acting like an arse all the time!"

  
Éomer snapped his gaze back to Faramir's face at hearing those words.

  
"You need to hear this one day and I am sorry you will have to hear it from me but you have been an arse. Yes, you've suffered great losses, but so have others. Countless others in fact! Deal with it that your sister can handle it so much better than you. She is respected and hailed by everyone. Do you think she could achieve that by lingering in the past? You on the other hand cannot let go of the past. You are dragging her down in your own valley of depression and she misses _you_."

  
The Marshall remained quiet.

  
"You and Éowyn know more than anyone else that there will never be anything romantically between her and me. We are friends and I love her as a _friend_ and as the _queen_ she is! She needs you and you have not been there for her like you have before. She told me about your shared past and how you taught her. Now you just want to keep her away from anything even remotely dangerous in your eyes. For fuck's sake! She killed the bloody witch king of bloody Angmar!"

  
"I know what you think of me, but don't you dare decide your sister is any less capable than you to make her own decisions! You need to respect that! Think badly of me if you want but she is good and pure and deserves her brother by her side the moment he pulls his head out of his arse!"

  
Faramir had not realized he had been pointing his finger into Éomer's chest while scolding the Prince. When he did, he snatched his hand back.

  
"Sorry, for touching you." he gruffly spoke and wiped his hand tiredly over his eyes.

  
"Goodnight." and strode off leaving Éomer to deal with the onslaught of thoughts to think over.

  
"Goodnight." he whispered back even though the Gondorian was already gone.

 

* * *

 

  
"Wynna." a soft voice spoke out of the dark.

  
Éowyn looked up from the letter she was composing. It had been ages since she had heard herself being called that name.

  
She softly smiled up at her brother who was now standing by her side. He smiled back. The smile did not come easily on his face, but it was there nonetheless.

  
"Do I have my brother back?"

  
"I think so." he whispered.

  
"Come. Let's talk." She took the much bigger hand into her own small one and led her damaged brother to her room. They piled the sheets and skins and pillows up high before the fire and cuddled together like when they were still children. When the world had not become so dark yet.  
And they talked.

  
And cried.

  
And their balance was restored once again.

 

* * *

 

  
The reuniting of the siblings influenced the whole of Edoras. Even in only a short time. Éomer was not the old, frowning Prince anymore who reminded people of the bad things in the past. It did not mean he was carefree once again, but he smiled more and the closeness with his sister was noticed. It reminded people of hope. If the Prince was healing. So could they.

  
Éowyn caught Faramir's eyes over the broad shoulder of her brother, who was explaining something about sword care to her, and mouthed 'thank you' to him.

  
The Ranger nodded warmly back and left them both to it. Éowyn could postpone the training for the day.

 

* * *

 

  
One of the last warm days of autumn brought the men out on the practicing courtyard. They were mouthing off to one and another and egging each other on to fight for their entertainment.  
Éowyn had been looking down from the balcony with Faramir next to her. They were practicing their Rhûnedainesque because of the renewed negotiations with the East of Middle Earth. When a voice called out to her sworn shield.

  
"Faramir! I dare you to a battle!" Young Hamling shouted jokingly. The Captain waved him off with a smile. They all knew he did not like to fight if he didn't have to. None of them had even seen him fight. Only Éowyn caught glimpses but then he was only in a defensive mode.

  
"You can if you wanted to." the Queen smiled at her companion.

  
The ex-Steward hesitated until Éomer stepped forward onto the courtyard and looked up.

  
"It would be an honor to fight you, Captain of Gondor." he boomed in invitation.

  
A hush fell onto the open. It was not hard to see that there were still unresolved issues between the two men and Éowyn angrily glared down at her brother. Still he left the invitation stand.

  
"All right." Faramir mumbled and took the stairs down. A circle had begun to form around the fight pitch.

  
"Swords, knives or wrestling?" the Marshall asked. Letting Faramir decide as the challenged party.

  
"My Queen?" the Ranger directed the question upwards for Éowyn to decide. She had already seen Faramir fight with knives and wrestling would demand her friend to disrobe and she could not do that to him.

  
"Swords." she decided.

  
The Captain nodded in acquiesce and started wrapping the leather straps he had hanging on his belt around his hands.

  
Éothain stepped forward to be their referee and asked "Steel of wood?"

  
"Wood." Éomer said at the same time when Faramir answered "Steel."

  
The Marshall looked at the Ranger for a moment and then replied "Aye, steel it is."

  
The White Lady was trying her hardest not to start biting her nails with worry. She could not understand why her brother was testing Faramir once again.

  
The two men took their swords and started circling each other when Éothain gave the signal they jumped into battle.

  
Steel met steel and the harsh sound echoed in the courtyard. Both men grunted from the sheer force behind the hit. Then another hit fell. Faramir stayed in a defensive position. Parrying all hits easily and dancing away when they blade swung too closely. Effectively trying to tire the Prince out.

  
"Stop dancing around." Éomer suddenly grunted full of frustration.

  
It worked and before he knew it the roles had reversed. The Ranger had changed tactics and was now rapidly letting blow after blow rain on the taller man. Both were sweating profusely but clamped their teeth together. Willing themselves to fight on.

  
"You called me an arse." the Marshall groaned out after a particular hard and nearly deafening clash.

  
"You hit me in the face." Faramir bit back.

  
"You said I had to pull my head out of my arse!"

  
"It worked didn't it!" A very near miss passed by Éomer's face. The onlookers gasped out loudly and held their breath when the fight continued.

  
The men suddenly were chest to chest. Rapidly breathing in and out. Too close to swing their swords.

  
"You make me so angry." Éomer growled and pushed the Gondorian away from him and lifted his sword once more for a renewed attack.

  
"And you have still not apologized!"

  
"I won't!"

  
"Because you were oh so right?"

  
"I don't do apologies!" and he angrily tried to swipe the legs from under his opponents body with his own leg.

  
"Maybe you should start on that. After you've finished..." heavy blow ".. pulling your head out..." push and a growl ".. of your arse!"

  
The swords clanged together and this time they both had to let go because of the heavy vibrating in the steel when it absorbed the hit.

  
Their eyes met and they both dove for their swords to the ground making them tangle in a wrestling and clawing heap on the floor. Completely undignified but still nobody halted the fight.

  
"I can't believe you!" Faramir choked out when hands wrapped itself around his throat. With a deft slide and twist from his hips he had reversed their positions.

  
"What do you want from me!" the Ranger suddenly yelled out after he received a vicious slap to the face when Éomer tried to get away from him.

  
Unexpectedly they both froze when they realized the position they were in.

  
Faramir had his hands on the broad shoulders of the blond man trying to push him away and at the same time his legs were wrapped around the other man's waist keeping them close. Éomer looked at the place where their bodies connected so intimately and his head snapped back up. To the others it may have seemed like they were still fighting, but the two warriors froze in time and to the Marshall's horror he felt a slight twitch in his neither regions making Faramir's eyebrows rise high on his forehead.

  
"You..." the sworn shield rasped out.

  
"No! I wouldn't." Éomer lashed out in panic and scrambled up and away from his opponent on the floor.

  
The Ranger quickly stood up too and grasped Éomer's wrist before he could turn away.  
"Éomer?" he whispered uncertainly.

  
"Don't you fucking touch me. I wouldn't and certainly not with you." the Marshall hissed out in embarrassed answer.

  
This time he could clearly see how much he had hurt his sister's friend. Agony flashed across Faramir's face.

  
"Of course not." he replied with a trembling voice.

  
The Captain squared his shoulders, looked up at the expectant faces, turned away and left the courtyard.

  
Éomer could feel the burning gaze of his sister in his neck and he dared not look up.  
Nobody needed to tell him how badly he had botched this up.

  
It may seem Faramir would get his apology after all.

 

* * *

 

  
An apology did not follow and the Ranger had not expected it to happen. Tension ran high when both men were in the same room. Thick silences filled conversations and nobody dare to make a joke when their First Marshall looked like he would kill the first man to speak up too loudly.  
Éowyn decided not to snoop into what had happened. Knowing it would've had to be something she had no business snooping into. It did not keep her from meddling a bit to form her own conclusions. Almost a month after the 'fight incident' she received a chance to do test the waters as to speak.

  
"Come, join me. Merthir was it, right?" she smiled at the young man who had asked for an audience with her.

  
"Your Majesty, I have come here with a request. It's my first time ever to make such a request and I'm trying to follow proper protocol."

  
"Tell me of your request, my dear man."

  
"I must ask your permission to court someone of your court."

  
"Whom do you wish to court?"

  
"I wish to court Lord Faramir of Gondor. Although... I don't know if I should follow the courting rituals from Rohan or those from Gondor." Merthir shyly concluded.

  
"You may court my sworn shield if you promise to show him the utmost respect. As for the correct rituals. I would advise you to inform Lord Faramir of your intentions first and then if he is open to it, let him decide which courting rituals he deems appropriate."

  
"Thank you, my Queen." the Guard gushed gratefully. He bowed several times and left the Hall.

  
"Oh my... Where is this going to lead?" Éowyn asked herself out loud.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was brushing Firefoot's coat when he heard the stable door open. He jumped behind his horse. Suddenly deciding he was not in the mood to talk to anyone.

  
He breathed a sigh of relief at his decision when he peeked around the corner and saw Faramir looking after his own horse.

  
A hunt was being planned for the end of the harvest and the horses needed to be in top condition.  
The Marshall noted how lovingly the ex-Steward treated his grey mare when the door opened again.

  
"Faramir?" a familiar voice sounded.

  
"Merthir?'

  
'Here you are." Merthir laughed. "I've been looking all over the City to find you. You're a busy man."

  
"Yes, you know me. Can't sit still for even one moment. What is it? Am I needed somewhere? I am

nearly finished with..."

  
"No. It's not that. Euhm..."

  
"Spit it out man." Faramir laughed.

  
"I wish to court you. Do you accept?" the younger man blurted out.

  
Silence. Éomer held his breath. He did not want to be caught eavesdropping.

  
"I..." the Ranger cleared his throat "Merthir, I am really flattered but why? I'm more than ten years older than you. You barely know me."

  
"I know that and I don't care. I want to get to know you. I find you very kind and caring and attractive. I would treat you respectfully and protect you from any harm. Faramir, not only that, but I can see that you are lonely. It hurts me to see you sad."

  
Faramir felt it a bit distressing that someone who barely knew him could see how lonely he felt.  
"Merthir..."

  
"Please, give me a chance. We can take it slow. I can court you in the style of Rohan or Gondor. Whichever you liked."

  
"I don't know if it's such a good idea. What if I find it not to be of my liking. I can't hurt you."

  
"I would appreciate your honesty if it came to that. But I would like to have a chance first."

  
"I..."

  
"Please."

  
"Of course. You can get a chance." Faramir finally acceded.

  
"Really? Yes! Thank you, you won't regret it. May I kiss you?"

  
"What? NO! Not yet at least. We'll take it slow. All right? And I don't know any courting rituals of Rohan. I thought they were all the same."

  
"So... The Gondor way?"

  
"You may accompany me and talk to me as much as you'd like. First we get to know each other. Just... Don't swamp me in attention. I'm not used to that."

  
"Thank you." and Merthir grabbed the Captain's hand and gave it a lingering kiss.  
When he left Faramir just sighed loudly when a slow and mocking clapping sound started not far from him.

  
Éomer came out from behind his horse.

  
"You starting in Rohan now?"

  
"What's it to you?"

  
The Marshall sneered. Not even realizing that what he felt was jealousy.

  
"Take it slow, all right. I wouldn't want you unable to ride a horse on the hunt."

  
"You have absolutely no idea of how good I am at riding." Faramir insulted suggestively back making Éomer redden in the face with anger and maybe even some reluctant arousal.

  
The stable door slammed shut after he angrily left.

  
Faramir just sighed again. Only turmoil and turbulence in his eyes.

  
What a bloody day.

 

* * *

 

  
"Ready for the hunt?" Merthir asked.

  
The courted Captain tried to suppress his agitation. He was trying so hard to open up to the young man but it was so hard to concentrate with everything else going on. If glares could kill, he would've been dead many times over again because of the Prince.

  
"You look very handsome, today. And any other day." his loyal worshipper readily supplied.

  
"Thank you, Merthir." Faramir exhaled.

  
Éothain drove closer and started to divide the hunting party. Luckily Merthir was not in his group so Faramir could breathe again. His task was to follow the Queen. Not so luckily was that it meant he was in the same group as Mr. Staring Eye Daggers.

  
"Elfish rope?" Éowyn asked when she saw her friend coil the rope in question on a pin and fastened it to his saddle.

  
"A gift." he explained "And very useful. I always use it on hunts."

  
The horn blew.

  
"Let's go!" Éomer yelled and the party stormed out the gates.

  
They followed the stream down to where it split up and crossed the Emnet. The group was nearly at the edge of the Fangorn forest when they finally found tracks of a herd of deer.  
With only a small movement with his spear the First Marshall led them in a different direction. More unto the open fields with tall grasses and sharp rocks nearing the edge of the river again and following it back up. They went higher and it started to rain. Éowyn pulled up her cloak to protect her face from the cold when Hamling suddenly let out a yell alerting the others that something was wrong.

  
The Queen, followed closely by Faramir rode closer to the man to enquire what has got him so worked up. He pointed at the floor and there they could discern several paw prints.

  
"Wargs." Éomer growled.

  
"I don't see any footprints. Probably no Orcs." Elfhelm readily supplied.

  
"Do we keep on with the hunt of follow the wargs, my Queen?" Hamling asked.

  
"We follow the wargs. They are a danger to the people of Rohan. What if they snatched a child playing by the stream?" Éowyn decided.

  
The men resolutely agreed with her assessment and the need for safety was still a big issue on their agenda.

  
"They went higher up the hills, closer to the canyon." Éothain remarked when studying the prints some more.

  
"Aye. They think they can hide more easily in the mist. Let's catch those mutts." Éomer said.  
Faramir swarmed closer to the only woman in their company, namely the Queen, and held his bow at the ready.

  
Éowyn too held the heft of her sword, ready to move it out of its sheath at any moment now.  
They proceeded slowly with more caution than ever when a slow growl sounded in the distance.

  
"They know we're here." the sworn shield murmured loud enough to be heard by everyone.

  
"LOOK OUT!" Hamling shouted and he pointed at a point above the Queens head. A warg had appeared on top of the rock and made himself ready to jump.

  
Lightning quick a spear and an arrow flew killing the creature immediately.  
Faramir's bow stopped its quivering and he noticed with gladness that his arrow had pierced the eye of the monster. Éomer had grunted after throwing his spear into the flank of the beast.

  
"Are there more?" Éowyn asked after finding her voice back.

  
"I don't.." Éothain started when another growl started near him and Hama. The second warg appeared and together they started fighting with it. Hamling and Elfhelm made to ride closer when they were intercepted with another beast.

  
Two more emerged from the mist.

  
"We'll take care of this one!" Elfhelm shouted when he threw his spear.

  
The Ranger and the Queen brought their attention to the one closing in on them. More arrows flew who wounded the animal, but it did not halt his pursuit. Faramir at last pulled his horse between the approaching animal and his Queen. It jumped and he hit it with his sword right in the muzzle. Making it howl and turn away in pain.

  
Éowyn had readied her sword too but the wounded warg turned its attention to an easier target.  
Éomer had been pulled of his horse in the battle with the last warg and with a great big swing he cleaved the skull of the beast. The wounded warg howled in anger and ran to the Marshall at seeing his companion fall in front of the human.

  
"Éomer!" his sister shouted in warning.

  
The Prince tried to extract his sword from the head of the dead mutt at his feet but it was unmovable.

  
His horse was too far away so he tried to put more distance between him and the approaching feral animal. Éothain and Hama had finally killed the beast attacking them and when Éothain saw his Prince in his precarious position he threw his spear. Catching the animal in the side.  
Elfhelm and Hamling, both pulled of their horses, killed their beast and started running to the aid of their First Marshall.

  
The last warg jumped at Éomer and he threw up his arms. One with a dagger pointed forward and one without anything but his armor. The teeth clamped around his arm but could not reach his flesh.

  
The beast snarled and the man yelled right back while trying to rip his arm out of the jaws of the growling monster and trying at the same time to dodge the claws trying to rip his guts from his belly.

  
Faramir and Éowyn were the closest now but the Captain could not get a clear shot of the beast and he did not want to risk hitting the wrong target.

  
"ÉOMER !" his friend shrieked next to him with such desperation. Time seemed to slow down and Faramir felt as if he could see what would happen before it even had time to happen.  
He steered his horse as fast as he could to the Marshall who was still trying to shake off the beast.

  
"Nooo!" Éothain howled when he noticed too what was going to happen.

  
The rain had made the stones slippery and Éomer suddenly lost his footing. The weight of the warg pulling him further down than it normally would have done and together they slipped over the side and down in the canyon.

  
The Ranger could just barely see the hand of the Prince grabbling for purchase in thin air when he jumped of his horse, Elfish rope in hand, he slapped his horse on the rear making it run off in the other direction. Away from the canyon and Faramir himself made a jump of faith.  
"FARAMIR!" was the last thing he could hear when all his attention zoomed in on the hand he tried to catch.

  
Hands locked together in a death grip. Their eyes locked together too. One determined. The other awestruck.

  
Faramir gritted his teeth and prepared for the pull. It did not take long.  
The rope pulled between the horse running away and his hand. It was wrapped several times in the Elfish rope. Being Elfish kept him from having any cuts or burns. It could not hurt his skin. But gravity could.

  
And when the rope snapped taut all the weight of the two men and their fall got caught by one arm.

  
A great and sickening ripping noise made Faramir scream so loud with excruciating pain.

  
"Take over!" he howled in agony.

  
Éomer quickly climbed up and supported his own weight on the rope. He slung his other arm around his savior and just stared at him in wonder.

  
"Sorry. I touched you." Faramir could finally groan out.

  
The Marshall started shaking his head in disbelief. The man was crazy to think about such a thing at this time. He had saved them.

  
"I believe I might pass out now." the man then grunted and promptly passed out.  
Éomer just stared at his unconventional hero, he held him close and noticed that there were tiny freckles on his nose.

  
Long black eyelashes cast shadows on the high cheekbones.

  
"You are beautiful." the Marshall whispered. He had never before been so aware of this fact as this moment now.

 

* * *

 

  
The story had spread quickly throughout Edoras and by the time darkness fell everyone had lit candles. Hoping it would support the man fighting for his life inside the Castle.  
Merthir had been noticed about the event and had been pacing the hallway for hours now. Éomer could not stand the not knowing so he sought out another one of his safe places and stayed there. Trying to make sense of what he felt when the news came.

  
It nearly buzzed through the walls.

  
"He will survive." the voices whispered.

  
"He won't lose his arm."

  
The First Marshall joined his friends who were waiting for the healer to leave the room. Éowyn was inside too. It had been hours. Silence reigned once more when the door creaked open slowly. All men stood on their feet at once.

  
"How is he, my Queen?" Merthir anxiously asked.

  
Her white dress was smirched with blood and she cleaned off her hands with a towel. The healer followed her shortly and closed the door behind him. The elderly man looked worse for the wear. His tunic, too, was bloodied. Sweat plastered his hair to his head and a wipe of crusted blood hung on his cheek.

  
"It was one of the worst fractures I have ever seen. The bone had completely popped out of its casket and tore through all the muscle and ligaments. We had to push the bone back in, disinfect the wound, try to patch up as much muscle mass we could and sew it shut. Lord Faramir's arm is now wrapped tightly to his chest. He cannot do anything individually until it is completely healed. No fighting, no lifting, cutting or even brush his hair. We must wait and let him regain strength. Hopefully it will not infect." the Healer turned back to Éowyn .

  
"Your Majesty, his bandages need to be cleaned three times a day until the wound has completely sealed. When it will infect... I hold not much hope if that were to happen."

  
He turned to face the men again.

  
"If it did not infect and the wound closes nicely _and_ he rests sufficiently. Then I hope after enough therapy and massages he could get the use back of his arm. But it will take at least half a year."

  
The crowd let out a sigh of relief.

  
"Rest assured. We'll all guard that man with our lives." Éothain nodded.

  
"Aye, he won't even get the time to lift a pinky when I'm near." Hamling added.

  
"He wanted to see you, Merthir." Éowyn said. "Only one visitor at a time."

  
Merthir nodded and cautiously inside.

  
The man stayed inside for less than ten minutes when he came back outside looking visibly shaken.

  
"And, what did he say? How does he feel?" Elfhelm asked impatiently.

  
"He wants to speak to you." Merthir bit out at Éomer "Sir." he added and then left.

  
Éomer would rather be in Mount Doom than enter that chamber but he had no choice. He owed the man.

 

* * *

 

  
The heavy dark wooden door closed behind him with a soft 'click'. Even that sound made Éomer wince until he looked at the frail looking man in the huge bed. Almost drowning in all the feathery downs surrounding him.

  
Faramir looked very pale and he was clutching the sheet as if he tried to will away the pain he surely must be suffering right now.

  
"Please sit." the Captain asked in a hoarse voice. Reminding Éomer once more of the agonized shout when he caught their weight on the rope.

  
A chair was sitting next to his bedside so the Prince sat down there. Feeling uncomfortable at being so close to the injured man.

  
"Will you apologize?" Faramir finally wheezed out.

  
Really? This again? The Marshall thought. So he stayed quiet instead and lifted his hand in answer. Placing it on the pale and slender hand clutching the sheets in pain.

  
Éomer focused all his attention on that hand full of expressions. He smoothed out the tension in its small frame and then clutched it in his bigger and warmer one.

  
His savior sighed softly.

  
"I ended the courting with Merthir."

  
Éomer quizzically turned up one eyebrow.

  
"It was the first thing I realized when I saved you. I could never work out with another person after making that jump for you."

  
The blond man did not really understand what was being said to him. He had never been any good at reading in between the lines.

  
"I don't understand."

  
"You will. I need to rest now."

  
Éomer stood up to leave when a thought came to his mind and he spoke it out loud.  
"You ask me, time and time again, to apologize. Why don't you insist on me thanking you for all you've done."

  
"And are you?" Faramir clarified "Thankful?"

  
"Thankful to live? Aye."

  
"Prove it. Start to live." the exhausted man on the bed finally rasped out.

  
Fretful sleep caught him in its arms while Éomer was still watching.

  
"Thank you." he answered softly at the sleeping man and left.

  
Missing the lazy curl of one mouth corner when he closed the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer took over training Éowyn . She insisted on it and he could not refuse his little sister. Not anymore. He had no right. Someone had made that clear to him a while ago.  
Merthir never showed up anymore to visit Faramir and that made the Marshall secretly glad. Others visited Faramir all the while and the moment the healer said he could leave his room had the Captain of Gondor roaming the halls again once more. For now he was still confined to the Castle, but Winter has come so no one really went outside when it wasn't necessary.

  
"I never knew your winters were so bad." Faramir shuddered one morning at breakfast.  
Éothain laughed out loud and remembered not to slap his friend on the shoulder. Not until he was healed at the least.

  
"You men of Gondor don't even have real winters." Elfhelm joked while shoving a buttered piece of bread under his friends nose.

  
"Yes, we do!"

  
"One centimeter of snow does not a winter make, Faramir." Éowyn joined from her place further down the table and effectively joining the teasing banter.

  
"Ah well, I must concede. I can never seem to get warm here. It must be my Gondorian upbringing." he joked back.

  
"Are you cold at night too? Hamling and I could cover you on that." Éothain flirted as a joke. Immediately both men sidled up closer with Faramir between them.

  
"That would be lovely. I feel like a warm sandwich now." the Ranger joked back.  
A glass shattered and all eyes turned to a red faced Éomer.

  
"Must've held my glass too tightly." he grunted without looking at anyone.

  
Éothain and Hamling put some distance between them and Faramir again and all except Éomer himself noticed how he could finally breathe more easily again after that had happened.

 

* * *

 

  
"The Princess is staring at you again." Elfhelm snickered in an annoyed Éomer's ear.

  
"She's nearly half my age." he snarled back.

  
"You could go for her sister."

  
"She's even younger, you pervert!"

  
"Doesn't seem to keep their father from pushing them right at you."

  
The First Marshall flushed with displeasure. It was true. From the moment the Lord of Dol Amroth had visited them, nearing the end of winter, he had pushed his two daughters repeatedly and almost literally under the horse lord's nose.

  
LothÍriel and Illimuna were both pretty girls. That was just it. They were girls and the Prince felt embarrassed in the girls stead. Their father was pretty obvious about his attempts.  
It only worsened when he started actively pulling his daughters along to wherever Éomer went. He tried subtly reasoning with the man and when that did not work he asked his sister for help. Éowyn was still angry and played the very attentive host to the irritating Lord of Dol Amroth and the two princesses. Her reply to his plea had been "Solve it yourself." and that was that. He knew she was still mad about Faramir.

  
Éomer groaned quietly when the two girls approached him once more on their father's orders. They touched his arms too much and their smiles were too big to be real.

 

* * *

 

  
The Ranger, who did not have his bandages cleaned thrice a day now, observed the proceedings from a distance. It did not sit well with him and Faramir knew he felt threatened by the presence of the beautiful young and undamaged girls. No one really knew if Éomer was interested in men or women or both but he seemed so friendly. With LothÍriel in particular. Not even Éowyn knew for sure as she had never really seen Éomer act out with anyone before. That was one subject both brother and sister kept for themselves.

  
The Queen's sworn shield felt defeated before it had even begun. How would he ever stand a chance against those pale beauties. He remembered Éomer telling him, repeatedly, not to touch him. Followed closely by the words "And certainly not you." Who was he trying to delude into thinking the Prince would ever be interested in... Faramir halted at the mirror in the hallway and looked at himself.

  
" _This_?" he whispered to himself and sadly shook his head.

 

* * *

 

  
"I wish to thank you again, for the companionship you gave my daughters, my Lord."

  
Éomer tried to ignore the fawning of the visiting Lord and strode through the doors still closely followed by the men and his compliments.

  
The farewell banquet for the last night of their visitors was well underway and the Marshall hoped to find a place close enough to the roasted pork. He hadn't had anything to eat since that morning because he had been trying to avoid the man trailing him even now.

  
Éowyn caught his eyes while searching for a place to sit and she smirked back at him. Knowing full well how tortured he felt.

  
"Even so, my Lord..." the man went on and Éomer just tuned him out again. Feeling more angry and frustrated by the minute. That piece of bacon... His mouth started watering.

  
"And my daughters want to tell you once more how thankful they are and that we'll be awaiting your answer."

  
"Wait? Excuse me? What answer?"

  
"Which one you'll want to marry of course. You have been courting both my girls these last two weeks now." the Lord of Dol Amroth smiled.

  
The world screeched to a halt and the blond could only feel the panicked beating of his heart in his throat.

  
"MARRY?" he shouted. The party fell silent and all eyes turned to the two men in the middle of the room.

  
"Euhm, yes, my Lord." the father of the two girls answered. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

  
"What on earth's name made you think I was courting your daughters??"

  
"Well..."

  
"No, wait. I realize. Gondorian tradition right? I work completely like a man of Rohan. I was not courting anyone!" Éomer shouted out disbelievingly. He was so furious. Why did nobody tell him anything about what had been happening.

  
"You have been stringing my girls all along?! They'll be heartbroken!"

  
"My heart would be broken too if my own father tried to sell me off to the first man that came along. Stop acting like their whoremonger and act like their father!"

  
He should not have said that, but he could not stop his words even if he wanted to.

  
"Look, your daughters are very beautiful and smart and gentle. Let them marry on their own terms. With someone they love."

  
"They have a duty to Dol Amroth..." the man started up again after he controlled the gaping at hearing Éomer's rude words.

  
"And you have a duty to them. I won't have any father treating their children any less than they deserve."

  
Faramir perked up at those words.

  
"Are my girls not good enough for you??" the Lord then shouted indignantly.  
"WHAT? Have you not heard a word of what I said? Do I need to make it even more clear?"

  
"Yes, maybe you should!"

  
"I prefer COCK!" Éomer yelled out completely out of his mind for a moment with anger.

  
Ear deafening silence.

  
Yes, he definitely should not have said that.

  
Then the chuckles began and not a moment later Éothain, Hama, Elfhelm, Hamling and every single one of them howled with laughter. Clutching their bellies and tears streaming down their faces. Only Éowyn tried to keep her smile down and tried to look disapprovingly at her brother for his crude words. She failed miserably.

  
Faramir's heart went a hundred miles a minute at the revelation and he smiled so warmly it brought tears to the Queen's eyes when she noticed.

  
Éomer wished the ground would swallow him whole.

  
"Well I'd never!" the other man gasped and left the banquet altogether.

  
Elfhelm, well into his cups by then and spurred on by the laughter, stood on the bench and raised his arm.

  
"A TOAST!" he smiled "TO COCK!"

  
"TO COCK!" the rest followed and gulped down their wine and ale.

  
"Hear! Hear!"

  
Éomer threw himself on the bench next to Éothain who made place for the greatly embarrassed Lord of Rohan.

  
"Please. Kill me now." he groaned.

  
"You must try the roasted pork." he only got in return.

 

* * *

 

  
That night. When most of the lights had been doused and the tables cleared. When snoring from drunk people on the floor of the Great Hall was the only sound to break the silence in Edoras Faramir took his Queen by the arm and escorted her back to her chambers.

  
"You are thinking so loudly." she smiled.

  
"Éowyn" he turned to her in front of her door.

  
"Faramir? What's wrong?"

  
"Could you..." her sworn shield looked up and down the deserted hallway. "Could you tell me all there is to know about..." he took a deep breath and continued "... Rohan courting rituals, please?"

  
"You!" she started.

  
"Yes!" he anxiously replied.

  
"Since when?"

  
"Always."

 

* * *

 

  
Spring had come and Faramir was finally allowed to stop wearing his sling. He still needed to be careful but he finally could go outside and apprehensively started riding his horse again. Éomer and him had started a tense camaraderie but still it was something.

  
"Boy, is my horse saddled? the Prince barked at the stable boy closest to him.  
The youngling snapped to attention and quickly brought Firefoot out. Conversations in the courtyard suddenly halted and the First Marshall looked up why that was when his horse caught his eye.

  
Everyone was zeroing in on the magnificent steed and Éomer froze when he saw what had happened to Firefoot's mane.

  
It had been skillfully braided in intricate patterns with modest flowers artfully decorating the complexly swirled strands of horsehair. The intention was clear and the horse master could not tear his eyes away from the piece of art that was his horse's mane. Never before had Éomer been approached with courting intentions and to say he was surprised was an understatement. Clearly his sister must have consented for Éomer was not allowed to be romantically involved with someone without the consent due to his close ties to the Queen.

  
The baffled man could easily deduce this had been done by another man because this was the first act of the Sacred Royal Courtship of Rohan. It was an old ritual and it had been almost a century since its last act. The man making his intention clear to Éomer must be an incredibly smart or traditional man. Or both. But he had to be sure.

  
"What day is it today?" he hoarsely asked Elfhelm who still stood gaping beside him.

  
"Monday." another voice helpfully piped up.

  
So it was a first act. The first gift would follow on the next Tuesday. If he allowed it.  
The Prince still had to decide if he would leave the braids in and thus announcing that he accepted the courtship or he could tear them out and tell the world he was not interested.  
His hands hesitated above the beautiful braids. It would be a lie to say he was not the least bit curious of whom dared to court him. Never before had he felt so flattered too.  
A small hope crawled up into his chest and that made the decision for him.  
With a big swung he sat on his horse. "We'll start patrolling the East side." he ordered and he and his men following him out of Edoras.

  
Only Éothain noticed a shaking Faramir heaving relieved gulps in his nerve wracked body in a dark corner nearly out of sight.

  
The Act of Intention was acknowledged and a success.

 

* * *

 

  
Next Tuesday an object wrapped in soft white cloth found its way onto Éomer's plate at the breakfast table.

  
"Good morning, brother. Something's waiting for you." Éowyn grinned and nodded her head in the direction of the little packet.

  
The Marshall snapped his bleary and sleepy eyes wide open at once and scanned the table. When he noticed the gift he sat down and gratefully accepted a cup of strong tea while gulping it down he could do nothing but stare at the mysterious cloth in front of him.

  
Internally giddy he slowly started opening his gift and the cloth gave way to a beautifully handcrafted wooden miniature horse. The woodcarving had been done masterfully with great taste for detail for Éomer could immediately recognize his loyal Firefoot in the figurine.  
He remembered his father giving him a similar gift and thought of the first foal he had been gifted when he became twelve. Old enough to start riding a big horse. It was difficult for a moment to swallow at the tearful memories of his dearly departed father. And with great care he wrapped up the present and stowed it away under his shirt. It would find a place of honor on his bedside table and Éomer smiled at his sister in answer.

  
Éowyn returned the small and her eyes were glistening suspiciously telling her brother more than he needed to ask that the small horse had reminded her too of their father and the gifts they got as children. He gave her knee a soft nudge with his and resumed breakfast.

  
The giving of the First Gift stood for honoring the family and their traditions. The little gift horse had been accepted as a worthy present. The Prince did not ask his Queen any questions because the secrecy of the suitor was to be respected and he was certainly looking forward to his Second Gift.

 

* * *

 

  
The next Wednesday was a wet and cold one. The First Marshall had been out early for a small emergency. Water had been pouring in the barn where they kept the horse's hay dry and together with some of their men they had hurried to save the hay.

  
The horse master stomped in his sodden shoes to his personal chambers and shivered violently. Hoping to get out of these wet clothes as soon as possible. A servant helped him out of the heavy dank attire and stoked up the fire.

  
Quickly a warmed towel was handed to the numbed blond man and he gratefully started drying himself off to try and keep the cold away from seeping into his bones.

  
The boy passed him his fresh and dry garb when Éomer suddenly paused his hand in taking his cloak.

  
"This is not my cloak." the horse master asked bewildered wondering how someone else's clothes made it into his wardrobe.

  
"Yes it is, my Lord. It's a new one. It was a gift." the servant replied with a courteous bow and held the cloak out again.

  
The taller man took the cloak and marveled at its softness. The material was made out of pure wool, light and soft, but still thick and warm feeling. The fabric was painted in Rohan dark green and held numerous subtle stitches. On closer inspection he saw that the seam all around the edges were gold stitched tiny runes. They spelled devotion, loyalty, strength, honor and truth repeatedly and on the back of the cloak a silvery horse stood out. Reminding Éomer of Shadowfax, Lord of all horses. It's figure rimmed with handmaid golden embroidery and when the Marshall rippled he cloak in imitation of a bellowing cloak he could almost see the horse running across the plains of Rohan with sunlight streaming past his broad back and illuminating the perfection of the magnificent steed's coat.

  
Enough was said that Éomer was followed by many envious looks that week. The cloak perfectly symbolized the meaning of the Second Gift, namely the gift of honoring the recipient's ancestry.

 

* * *

 

  
The Third Gift had to be a jewel. The Marshall's giver had given not just any jewel but a Greenleaf brooch from Lothlorien. When spelled onto your cloak you could disappear from the sight of anyone with malicious intent. The jewel was hard to come by and normally not given out to a Human. Éomer concluded his suitor must have a lot of money, the right connections or stolen it.  
He was the first man of Rohan to ever have received such a leaf and everyone wanted to touch it.

 

Even Éowyn admitted to being a tad jealous.

 

* * *

 

  
Four weeks into his courtship Éomer could not hold still from excitement. It was Thursday and he had not yet received his third gift.

  
"My Lord?" a stable boy dragged him out of his musings.

  
"There is something in the stall of Firefoot with your name on it."

  
The Prince immediately went out and what he found confused him at first and then made him feel delighted.  
Later that night Éowyn asked what he got.

  
"Strawberries!"

  
"Strawberries? But they are not yet in season and so hard to come by here in Rohan!"  
Éomer put his gift on the table for all to see and pointed out at the framework.

  
"Look how he made a little greenhouse. He must have been nursing this plant for a while or got it from somewhere where it is much warmer during the year. Such as..."

  
The horse lord halted his words and thought of the only place he could think of where strawberries and greenhouses were used all the time. Gondor...

  
"Where brother?"

  
"Many places." he admitted. He was keeping that piece of information for himself. For now. It still was speculation and nothing more.

  
"So the Fourth Act of Pleasure is a fact? You simply love strawberries and now you have your own supply."

  
"Aye. It's a very smart move."

 

* * *

 

  
"Are you nervous?" Éothain asked Faramir who was clutching a scroll close to his chest.

  
"What do you think!" he snapped "Sorry" he followed his outburst immediately.

  
"I'll make sure he gets it." the older Marshall reassured his agitated friend and he tried to take the scroll. The Captain would not let go of the scroll making the other man tug on it even more strongly.

  
"Faramir. You need to let go of it, in order for me to deliver it to him." Éothain sighed.

  
"I am sorry. I can't just... This gift decides all. I think I am going to be sick." and rubbed his painful shoulder in quiet contemplation while paling even further.

  
"I never thought it would come this far."

  
"You prepared all of your gifts except this one. That shows you must've had some hope."

  
"Aye. Maybe. I don't know. All right. Don't tell him it's me."

  
"I am not completely senseless, you know."

  
"Right. All right. Off you go."

  
"The scroll, my good man."

  
"Oh, of course."

 

* * *

 

  
Friday evening late, when the sun had set hours ago, an exhausted Éomer made his way into his room. Vowing to himself that he would have himself a lie in the next day after his afternoon chasing the escaped cattle near the west wall of Edoras. The horse master wished he would never again have to lay eye on any sheep for that matter.

  
A single candle had been lit, its wax slowly dripping down on its holder, illuminating the dark but warm room and drawing Éomer's attention to his desk. Next to the candle lay a scroll and the blond instantly strode over to his bureau eyeing the rolled up parchment. Hands almost shaking from curiosity he opened the scroll and read.

  
_My fourth gift should be the Gift of Beauty._

  
_It should be equal to what I believe is my own Beauty._

  
_Dearest Prince, with regret I must confess I do not have such a gift to offer._

  
_For I believe to be not even close to what You would perceive as Beauty._

  
_I can only offer You these sincere words:_

  
_Many men I have seen and yet you stand out above all of them._

  
_In Strength and_

  
_In Beauty._

 

  
The scroll fell from his numb fingertips and heavily the Marshall sat down. Contemplating what he may or may not have done to deserve such a missile.

 

* * *

 

  
Many curious glances were thrown his way when he sat besides his sister.

  
"G'dmorning." he grumpily said. Still finding it too early to rise after yesterday, but he had to because he had to convey his message today.

  
Éowyn knew too, however she dared not breach the subject. She knew what had happened. Éothain had told her and secretly she crossed her fingers under the table waiting for her brother to say something.

  
"He gave me no Gift of Beauty." Éomer finally said when his breakfast was nearly finished.

  
"He didn't?" the Queen acted surprised.

  
"No." her sibling pushed back his plate and stood tall. Swept his gaze around the room and looked back down at his sister.

  
"He gave me the gift of humility." and promptly took of his sword Gúthwinë.  
With only a momentarily hesitation he placed it on the table and left the room leaving it and his sword in total silence.

  
When the Act of Beauty had been accepted, the Recipient had to let the suitor know he could continue the courtship. Most of them did it by leaving something precious for the suitor to safekeep until the next gifting.

  
The only thing Éomer could have given more precious than his sword was his own horse and everyone was staring in amazement at the grand gesture their Prince had just made.  
One way or another the sword made in total secrecy in the hands of the suitor.

 

Faramir held it close and just stared at it all night. Thinking about his next step and not believing his luck.

 

* * *

 

  
The Marshall had been out all week to patrol the borders but he had made sure to return on the next Saturday. Impatient for the next gifting and pondering how his suitor could top his last gift.  
Faramir had had all week in peace to think of his Gift of Support. It had to prove he could provide for his love interest.

  
The decision kept him up for two days straight when the idea suddenly came upon him. He had no money nor any real titles to give though he could prove that he was a worthy comrade. Someone you could survive with when times got hard. A fellow warrior who knew his spiel.

 

The Ranger was going hunting.

 

* * *

 

  
On Saturday, Éomer got asked to the Great Gate and making him stand eye to eye with a huge and rare dead silverback boar. The giant boar had been many a dream to catch but it kept to itself almost elusively deep into the woods of Fangorn Forest. No one dared to enter the Forest alone.

 

Nay, no one even dared to enter it even in company.

  
And here the boar was. Presented on a wooden rack bound together by hand and with flowers all up and around it. The tusks had been chopped off and were nowhere to be seen. The Marshall reached out his hand and touched the nearly thousand pound pig when his attention got caught by snuffling sounds behind the rack and the monstrosity on top of it.

  
Four little silverback piglets, bound by leashes, were sniffing around and delving into the ground with their noses. Éomer could easily see the tracks left by his suitor to get the boar and its piglets here. It must have been one heck of a job to achieve probably even at night as to not be sighted by anyone else. Maybe a Greenleaf would have come in handy. The horse lord mused to himself.

  
"Get the boar inside. We'll eat it tonight. Bring the piglets to the stables. We're going to rear them."

  
Roasted boar had never before tasted so good. They had hung the boar outside above the flames and everyone in Edoras had had a slice of boar and a cup of ale that evening. People brought fruit and bread and different cheeses in baskets. Soon the whole City was in celebration and Éomer just smiled at the thought of his suitor providing for an entire Capital.

  
That night Gúthwinë found its way back into his lap when everyone was busy singing and drinking and laughing and talking.

  
You could finally feel the happiness again from a people after such a dreary period.

 

* * *

 

  
Tension ran high a week later on Sunday morning. The final gift was also an act.  
The person courted had to do an act of vulnerability before everyone in their right to test his suitor. And the suitor had to provide the Act of Protection. He had to show the world that anyone who ever dared to challenge him on his claim or whomever thought to test his worthiness could not touch his love.

  
Energy was buzzing all around Edoras and many men were readying themselves for whatever may happen. It happened precisely at noon. When the bell rang twelve times.  
Éomer lifted himself out of his chair and started taking of his heavy robes, dagger, shoes and swords. Leaving him in plain brown trousers and a white shirt. Éowyn handed him a strip of dark cloth and their hands stayed up for a while when they met to reassure each other and to show understanding.

  
The Marshall took a deep breath and kneeled. Binding the cloth in front of his eyes. Tightened it so he would be effectively blinded and sat back as comfortable as he could on the back of his hinges.  
In the most cases it took a while until someone challenged the suitor. Not this time. Everyone had assembled near the Great Hall and soon Éomer heard someone run to him.

  
A clash sounded behind him and then a grunt. Then silence.

  
Someone else roared and tried to get near to the Prince.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir had been paralyzed for but a moment when Éomer had stood up and decided to go on with the Act. Elfhelm did not wait a second longer than that moment of paralysis and charged right to his First Marshall.

  
With a jump the Ranger stood up, glad his shoulder was completely healed and ran as quickly as possible to intercept the challenger. Their swords met and with a brutish head butt and a long swing Elfhelm crashed into the tables on the other side of the wall. He tried to get up but gave up with a grunt.

  
A roar made his head turn and soon he had not one but two and then three opponents. It was difficult and hard and the Captain had to use everything he had to keep them from touching Éomer.

  
The blond man kneeling on the floor tilted his head a bit as if to hear better what was going on but Faramir was careful not to let any sound out to betray himself.

  
"Bloody SHITE! You broke my nose!" Hamling shouted when a vicious kick backwards made him blind for more than a minute.

  
The ex-Steward had no time to dwell on regrets because others were quickly following up after the failed attempts of their mates. Once he defeated a challenger, he was forbidden to re enter the Act so it was prerogative for Faramir to be ruthless and terminate any chances.  
An hour went by and the Gondorian could barely stand on his legs. He had fought probably more than twenty men and exhaustion was taking over. His frame trembled with fatigue and hurt when he noticed less people were coming onto him. They feared and respected him and would not dare to challenge his claim anymore.

  
Faramir dared to let out one feral snarl to anyone coming even one step closer. He circled around the curious and blind horse master on the floor. His gaze quickly flitting up and around the room to catch any suspicious movement. The men drew away and gave him the room. No one stepped up again.

  
There would be no giving up. He only had to keep this going for another hour. He could not collapse before that time.

  
After almost fifteen minutes three other men tried to challenge him and they too failed.  
The waiting began again and Éomer started to shift uncomfortably on his knees. Trying to keep some of the strain out of his legs. He had no concept of time and waited impatiently for it to be over when a charged moment presented itself again.

  
He heard the heavy breathing of the mystery man defending himself once more. The suitor should be ready to fall any moment now, but it never did happen. The man was stubborn and strong and would not give up. The Great Hall was nearly empty now, safe for Éothain, Hama and Elfhelm when the doors opened and Éowyn entered.

  
"It's nearly time." she smiled.

  
Éomer could hear it was directed at his protector. He caught barely a whiff of his sister's soft scent when she shouted. The Marshall almost stood up to see what had happened to his sister when she spoke again.

  
"Very clever. Yes, I am here to challenge you."

  
His suitor's sword had been resting tip down on the floor and it scraped over the stone signaling that he was trying to lift it in the air again. Ready to defend Éomer.

  
Steel met steel. A hiss and a grunt and some groans were the only sound he could hear from his suitor. His sister too was extorting herself trying to reach him. Sometimes he felt a breeze close to him and wondered if she really got that close or if it was just a breeze from the movement of the fight.

  
Anyway, he dared not move a hundredth of an inch until he heard someone falling on the floor.

  
"Damn!" Éowyn cursed when the wind got knocked out of her lungs.

  
And her sibling could not stop it even if he tried. He let out a snort and smiled blindly in front of him. Not even knowing how much he was dazzling his suitor with that smile.

  
"Time's up, brother. Count to twelve." Éowyn panted out after her fight.

  
The twelve seconds were of importance. It gave the suitor exactly twelve seconds to stay or to go and keep his identity secret.

  
Faramir did not have to think twice and ran as fast as he could. Thus ended his last gifting. And started the Act of Acknowledgment.

  
Éomer counted to twelve in his head and tore the blindfold off. He blinked against the sudden light and looked around. Only his sister had remained.

 

"Now, this makes things even more difficult, doesn't it?" He grinned ruefully at her.

 

* * *

 

  
The First Marshall could not help it but anytime he saw a man pass by him with yet another bruise on the face or with a weird hobble in their step made him smile. They had all challenged his suitor and all had failed.

  
Now the last act put the ball in his court. He needed to find out who was his suitor. And he needed to be a hundred percent sure of it before he could call him out. Then they had to clasp hands and that was the Act of Acknowledgment.

  
From the moment they had clasped hands they could speak of everything that had happened and decide to stop the courtship or continue it in a more convenient way.

  
Éomer had his suspicion but he was not sure and he dared not say a word until he was completely certain. The man had suffered enough, it would not be fair to burden him with a false accusation. Again.

  
The Sunday after the Act of Protection another gift made it onto his plate. This normally didn't happen but a small note was attached to it and Éomer eagerly read it.

  
_It seemed like such a waste otherwise._

  
And that was all it read. The horse master wrapped his present open and was presented with the two tusks from the silverback boar. The giant teeth had been sharpened and polished into two broad bracelets. Runes were carved into it. The same as on his gifted cloak. The tusks were the color of swirling mist in the mountains. White and bluish with a hint of moss. They were perfectly made and so beautiful.

 

* * *

 

  
"Those are nice bracelets." Elfhelm commented when seeing the tusks. Trying not be seem to envious.

  
"Jealous?" Éomer teased.

  
"Maybe, I wish I had a suitor like you have." his friend joked right back. "You deserve it. That's all I'm saying." he then concluded making Éomer glow with the kind comment. He clasped the shoulder of his right hand for a moment in gratefulness when boasting and loud voices turned the corner.

  
Hama, Hamling and Éothain were trading jokes with Faramir. Teasing him about something. The group had not yet noticed the two standing a bit off at the side listening to the companions.  
Suddenly Hamling made a probably very lewd remark making the Gondorian blush deep right all the way down his chest and Éomer felt his mouth go dry at the beautiful sight.  
They had gotten closer and Éothain noticed his Prince standing there and listening to them.

  
"Aye, one more remark like that.." Faramir started to retort and Éothain grabbed his shoulder trying to make him stop "..and I'll break your nose again."

  
Hamling snorted in answer when the Ranger suddenly understood why Éothain was grabbing his shoulder so painfully.

  
It felt as if his body was doused in cold water at the sight before him.  
"I KNEW IT! I knew it was you!" Éomer cackled triumphantly and took a step forward to grasp Faramir's arm only to catch air.

  
"What the..." Hama started.

  
"Did he just..." Elfhelm commented too.

  
"Err..." Hamling scratched the back of his head.

  
"You better run after him, my Lord, or you can't acknowledge the courtship." Éothain helpfully advised the stunned Marshall.

 

* * *

 

  
Let it not be said nothing ever happened in quiet 'ole Edoras. Many men and women rolled over the floor with laughter when they followed the wild goose chase happening all over town. At one point Faramir was even spotted on top of a building trying to dodge the advances of their dear Prince.

  
Éowyn just sighed and threw her hands up exasperatedly. Typical behavior for her boys she thought.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir panted loudly when he slammed his back against the door he had just closed. It was nightfall and he had been running for almost twelve hours. He had bolted the door and here he was safe from Éomer ever catching him.

  
A soft noise alerted his heightened senses of something that was off and before he had time to react to hands slammed next on each side of his body on the door.

  
"Finally." the voice hissed.

  
And the Ranger paled in the soft glow of the fireplace.

  
Éomer went to catch his hand but the two arms were suddenly firmly held behind his back.  
"This is ridiculous!" the Marshall snarled while trying to grasp the shorter man's arm.

  
"Can't we just let it be?" the Gondorian finally tried.

  
"Then why risk it all?!"

  
"I just..."

  
Éomer had him at a disadvantage and his hand got caught. Meekly he let it be brought between them where it got clasped in a very tight grip.

  
"All right." Faramir whispered defeated "Get on with the rejection."

  
And the blond man's first words were

  
"Words cannot express of how sorry I am."

  
The ex-Steward knew he was gaping wildly and probably looked very foolish at that moment but all rational thought had left him all at once. This was what the Prince of Rohan deemed important enough to say to him at the first shot he got.

  
"I am sorry for judging you without knowing you. I am sorry for being an arse. For being jealous of your bond with my sister and the bonds you have with the others. I am sorry for insulting and hurting you and to ever let you think I would not find you desirable. I am sorry of what you had to live through and that I was not there to help. If I could I'd rewind time and grant you anything you ever wished had gone differently in the past. And I'm sorry about lying all the time for you see... I have wanted you from the very first moment I saw and I was too much of a coward to accept it because of what my stubborn mind only wanted me to see. So I'll gladly accept your courtship. If that still is what you'd want."

  
A very long silence kept the tension high strung.

  
"I've never heard you say that much to me in all the time I've known you."

  
"Yes, well. I'm a man of Rohan." Éomer whispered throatily "Actions speak louder than words." and he licked his lips flicking his eyes down to Faramir's soft and inviting looking ones.

  
"I can't just..."

  
"Forgive me?"

  
"I forgave you a long time ago, Éomer. I mean to say that I can't just trust you. Even though I have pursued you relentlessly for the last two months. And I confess I knew I wanted you from the moment I saw you. But you have treated me like dirt every single time even after I've proven myself multiple times. I forgive your words and actions from the past but I can't just simply forget them and put away my hurt and mistrust those words and actions made!"

  
"I understand. It's my time to prove myself now."

  
"You don't have to."

  
"I will win your trust, Faramir. You're an amazing man whatever may have happened and I need you to realize that I know better know."

  
"Éomer." the Ranger felt tears sliding down his cheeks. Could he deserve this? Could this really be happening to him? Then why was it so difficult to try and be happy for once? He felt helpless and lonely.

  
"Let me prove myself. Please."

  
"Yes." the sworn shield decided to be selfish for once in his life. "Yes." he repeated.

  
"We'll go slow."

  
"Yes." Faramir said again.

  
"Do we tell the others?"

  
"You may tell your sisters, the others... I don't want them all finding out too soon."

  
"Why not?"

  
"What if you change your mind. I don't want their pitying looks sent my way."

  
"Faramir, I would never..."

  
"You can never be too sure about that." the shorter man interrupted.

  
"Very well."

  
The silence started to stretch again when they noticed that Faramir was still pressed against the door. Smashed between the hard wood and Éomer's broader and taller body. Both of them blushed and the horse lord took a step back. Their hands were still clasped and he brought the Rangers had to his face. Kissed the palm and placed it on top of his loudly thumping heart.

  
"Thank you." the Prince whispered and with one lingering look he opened the door, stepped by his suitor and left the room.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer had not yet had the opportunity to tell his sister and when they sat down at the breakfast table many questioning glances were thrown his way.

  
"Can I speak to you later this day, in private?" he softly asked Éowyn.

  
She nodded in return and mingled in the conversation with the person on her other side that day.  
The Marshall just stared at his cup when a cold shiver ran over his back. He turned his head and saw Faramir cautiously enter the Hall and find himself a place. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment and both men snapped their heads away. Flushing with secret pleasure and trying to hide it from the others. The Queen had noticed but she could wait until later that day.  


Another lingering glance was shared when her brother left the table and Faramir tried his very best not to stare at the handsome backside leaving the room.

 

* * *

 

  
Typical for her brother was to grab the bull immediately by the horns. The door had barely closed behind him when he blurted out to her "I believe I love him. That I've always loved him."  
Éowyn just goggled at him in bewilderment when she regained her senses.

  
"Tell me everything."

  
So he did and her sibling ended the conversation on the note that he had absolutely no idea to prove himself to Faramir without alerting all the others immediately what was going on.

  
"My dear friend has been all his life at the mercy of others. What you need to do is give him some measure of control back. And show him you can keep his word. Smile at him, Éomer. For I know for sure he cannot and has never been able to keep his eyes off of you in all the time I've known him."

  
"Was he that obvious to everyone but me?"

  
"You both were obvious to everyone but yourselves, my dear brother."

  
"I've been so hostile to him..." Éomer trailed off in embarrassment.

  
"Yes, you have. But you have been hiding your true feelings for so long after everything you've been through. It is very difficult to find your true self again but I know you'll find peace once more within your own soul."

  
"Your words are wise and kind, Wynna. Thank you."

  
"You're welcome. Just... Try to open up some more. Tell him about yourself. Show him you trust him too. Everything you do and say will show him what you expect in return. It will make the adjustment easier for him."

  
Her First Marshall nodded in quiet reverie. Determined to make this work.

 

* * *

 

  
"Good afternoon." a warm voice popped up behind him.

  
Faramir clutched his heart and nervously turned around to face his suitor. Oh, how the roles have reversed.

  
"Are we alone?"

  
The Ranger nodded.

  
"I have thought about a way to deserve your trust in both actions and in words and I think I might have an idea."

  
"Go on." the copper haired man mumbled back when returning his attention back to the brushing of his mare's coat.

  
"I give you the right to ask me one question and the right to ask me to do one thing. Every day. For as long as you'll need."

  
"That's an absurd idea."

  
"It's the only one I have at this moment." Éomer shrugged making Faramir suddenly realize that Éomer was all but still a very young man.

  
"Anything?"

  
"Anything."

  
"Can you stand on your hands?"

  
And honest, hand to heart, the Prince of Rohan glanced quickly around and deeming the coast clear he placed his hands on the floor and raised his legs. Even walking a couple of steps like that making Faramir almost break out in a laugh.

  
The Marshall stood back up on his legs, his face had turned a bit red and he boyishly grinned right back at Faramir waiting for his question of that day.

  
"How many people have you kissed."

  
It was not really a question, but nonetheless intrusive to Éomer's privacy. The taller man came up very close to the Gondorian.

  
"None." he breathed "Yet." he concluded with a glance to Faramir's mouth and then he swiftly left the stables.

  
Faramir slowly let out the air he had not realized he'd been holding.

 

* * *

 

 

"Whistle?"

  
And Éomer whistled all the way down the stairs of the Castle making people wonder what got their Marshall in such a good mood.

 

* * *

 

  
"How many times a year do you cut your hair?"

  
"Hmm, every three months maybe?"

 

* * *

 

  
"Can you wear a purple tunic tomorrow."

  
"Aye."

 

* * *

 

  
"Do you think..." Faramir gulped the rest of his sentence down and went away leaving a confused Éomer in his wake.

 

* * *

 

  
"Have you had sex with anyone?"

  
The blond man slowly inhaled through his teeth.

  
"No." he finally grunted.

  
"Oh."

  
"Yes. Oh."

 

* * *

 

  
"Walk with me?" Faramir dared to ask one fine evening. Together they made their way besides the wall enjoying the sunrise.

  
"Tell me about growing up in Rohan."

  
And Éomer told him everything from his childhood. Even including the horse gift that had made him think of his father.

  
Both men said their goodbyes with a small smile on their face.

 

* * *

 

  
It happened completely by surprise that they were seated next to each other at the banquet.  
Éowyn had really put her foot down that they should practice their Rhûnedainesque and their manners for when the People of Rhûn would arrive. So a 'fake' banquet was used to practice with real food of course.

  
The Queen probably hoped it would not turn to another one of those late night drinking occasions. Although she did like those, it would perhaps not leave such a good impression on their guests. It did not take long for her to move from her chair and scold Hama and Hamling acting like fools on the other end of the table.

  
Éomer almost startled visibly when he felt a hand grasp his under cover of the table. Their fingers intertwined and Faramir drew their combined hands on top of his knee. Leaving the invitation open for the future.

  
The Marshall had tried to hide his flaming face behind his wine cup and clasped the hand only tighter under the table.

 

* * *

 

  
"Can you sing?" the Ranger asked several days later.

  
"No, not really. Can you?" Éomer asked back not really expecting an answer yet to his own questions.

  
"Sometimes."

  
"Would you sing for me?"

  
"Someday perhaps." Faramir smiled back their hands shortly touched and parted.

 

* * *

 

  
"Aren't you disgusted with me?"

  
"What for?"

  
"For being the Whore for Gondor."

  
"I have forfeited the right to ask the truth of that matter so I will only base my assumptions on what I truly know about you. So no. You do not disgust me."

  
"Do you want to know?"

  
"When you're ready. I'll want to know it then. Not a second sooner."

  
That got him a small and surprising peck on the cheek and before he could even react to that Faramir was gone.

 

* * *

 

  
"It's been over a month."

  
"Hmm." Éomer hummed in agreement.

  
"Do you not wish to kiss me?"

  
The horse master's head snapped up in shock. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

  
"I.. I don't know. I've never kissed anyone before."

  
"We'll kiss when we the moment is right."

  
"When will that be?"

  
"I've waited long enough to meet someone like you. I can wait longer for a kiss."

 

* * *

 

  
The group patrolling the border, including Éomer, had to be sent out again and for the first time since his arrival in Edoras, Faramir was invited.

  
The Marshall probably asked Éowyn to ask Éothain to ask Faramir, but that didn't matter. It had happened. A week long they would ride out together, sleep together under the stars and see each other every waking moment scourging the lands for threats, problems or other things to be swiftly dealt with.

  
"Pack warmly. The nights still get very cold, even with summer approaching." the blond horse master had mumbled at breakfast when the decision to send out the patrol again was made.  
Faramir softly nudged the other's strong leg with his knee to let him know he understood and that he appreciated Éomer remembering how difficult it was for the more slender man to stay warm at night.

  
They made their farewells to the Queen and the Ranger took his place in the group. Carefully watching all subtle signals the horse masters of Rohan were used to give. No foreigner had ever rode out with only the men from the Rohirrim. The horses and their lords moved as one. Like well oiled clockwork and didn't halt after almost a day galloping through the long grasses and between pointy rocks and over puddles and streams.

  
The riding made the Ranger feel carefree and independent. He enjoyed every minute of it until he tried to get off his horse by nightfall. He grunted when he hit the ground and Éothain helped him up.

  
"As long as you sit in the saddle you won't notice but after a day's hard riding anyone would feel it." and he rubbed his own backside during the process of talking.

  
The other men gathered around the fire and a flask was passed around together with the meals they had brought.

  
Éomer was roasting a little sausage on a stick above the flames when he saw Faramir wandering off. Quietly he slipped away from the talking men around the fire and stepped next to his Ranger in the pale moonlight.

  
"It will seem like treachery but I do believe Rohan has more beauty then all of Gondor." the Captain mused aloud.

  
"It has now." the Marshall answered while keeping his steady gaze on Faramir.  
The ex-Steward turned to face his suitor when he noticed the particular glance telling him that when the horse master spoke of the beauty Rohan now had, he had been talking about since Faramir had been there.

  
He really wished he could keep those furiously blushing phases under control. Sadly he could not and Éomer took a step closer to his newly made friend.

  
"So, you do think me beautiful?"

  
"Have you had any doubt about it?"

  
"Don't you fucking touch me. I wouldn't and certainly not with you." Faramir quoted Éomer's own words back at him.

  
"Please forgive me for ever saying that. I never meant it."

  
"You didn't, then why lash out in such a way?"

  
"I was ashamed."

  
"Why?"

  
"I always had such ultimate control of my own body and its needs. And from the moment I've met you..."

  
"I what?"

  
"You make me say and do things I never would have said nor done when I would have thought rationally. My body reacts to you the most frustrating ways and you don't even need to do anything for that to happen. I lashed out because I was angry and confused that you had more control about me than I had."

  
"Frustrating ways?"

  
"Yes." Éomer groaned. "Just feeling your gaze upon me..." he trailed of embarrassed. The Ranger did just that and watched the taller man with unmistakable want in his eyes.

  
"Don't do that."

  
"Why not?"

  
"Because it's making this very hard for me, Faramir."

  
"Is it?" the copper haired man suggestively flirted back.

  
"You had your question today." the Marshall grumpily decided.

 

* * *

 

  
Two more days passed in easy companionship and sore behinds when they came upon a small fire. Not yet completely gone out. Footprints made them estimate no more than ten beings in the near vicinity.

  
They were right. Soon they gained terrain and saw the fleeing Orcs.

  
"Rohirrim!" Éomer shouted and as one group they turned into one big weapon.  
The disgusting creatures did not stand a chance and the fight was over in the blink of an eye. One man had only a scratch and the group decided to stay the night there to make sure there were no others that got parted from the now slaughtered group of Orcs.

  
Éomer was standing guard with Éothain and Elfhelm while the others were sleeping. They were softly speaking and playing some cards when a soft whimper drew their attention. The three men stood up at once and looked out into the dark. The horses were calm so it would not be something strange that they've heard.

  
Another whimper sounded and this time their attention got drawn onto a figure sleeping in his sleeping bag behind a rock at the edge of the encampment. The man was shivering and starting to moan.

  
"It's Faramir." Éothain said. "Let me go wake him. It's just nightmares. It's not the first time I've heard him."

  
"He has many nightmares?" Éomer asked glancing worriedly at the shivering man near the boulder.

  
"Aye. I wish it wasn't so but my quarters are near to his. I often run into his room thinking he's about the be murdered. I better wake him before it worsens." and he started towards the man in question when the Marshall halted his movement.

  
"No. Let me." And he slipped closer, curious as to what dreams may plague his love interest. The blond man squatted down next to the still shivering person on the ground while ignoring the piercing stares on his back from Éothain and Elfhelm.

  
"No." Faramir moaned out loud. "Father. Please. Don't make me." He turned and turned and cold sweat stood out on his forehead.

  
"Don't leave me here with him!" his voice went louder and Éomer started to lift his hand to quieting his friend before he woke up anyone else. When the man in agony suddenly seized and groaned.

  
"Don't rape me!" a young and angry voice suddenly hissed out making the Marshall fall back on his arse from the shock.

  
Pitiful whimpers tore itself from the tortured man's throat and Éomer could do nothing more but stare in horror. He had been so wrong. How could he?

  
"Wake him up!" Éothain angrily hissed "You had no right to intrude on him like that!"

  
"Nooo!" Faramir whimpered loudly sounding completely frightened.

  
Tears gathered in the blond horse master's eyes.

  
"You knew?" he bitterly asked.

  
"Yes. So does your sister."

  
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a broken voice.

  
"Faramir did not want to tell you. You were so convinced about knowing the 'truth' you cast him aside without further notice. He thinks he does not deserve any happiness and is so scared all the damn time. Just look at him!"

  
"I've hit him. I've insulted and pushed him past any boundary any decent man would surely be unable to cross and still he forgives me?"

  
"You wake him up and use the rest of your life to make up for that."

  
The Marshall nodded in steely agreement and gently shook Faramir awake. The Ranger drew his dagger in the blink of an eye but relaxed when he saw Éomer's face.

  
"You were having a nightmare and I woke you before you could scream any louder and wake up the rest."

  
"Oh. Did I say something?"

  
"Hmm? No, nothing intelligible."

  
"I'm sorry. I always have bad dreams when I'm cold. It reminds me of... Bad things." the Captain concluded. His mind flashed back to a cold and dark room where he had been chained to the ceiling for nearly a week.

  
"I can do something about that." and the horse lord disappeared for a moment. He gave a warning glare at Éothain and Elfhelm who were watching him closely for any distressing signs.  
"Wake me before the guards change. I'll sit in on the next one." he ordered them and then returned to the shivering man behind the boulder with his sleeping roll under his arm.

  
"Move over. I'm joining you."

  
Faramir hesitated only for a moment but his desire to keep warm was greater than his desire for discretion.

  
"Éothain knows. He'll wake me when the others awaken. Have no fear." Éomer murmured whilst settling himself next to the other man.

  
They silently lay next to each other, side by side. Mulling over the events when the Gondorian slowly turned his head a bit to the side trying to read the face of the heavily breathing man next to him.

  
"You alright?"

  
"Yes."

  
Faramir kept staring and Éomer could not look back. Not yet. He had to process this new information.

  
"Éomer?"

  
"Yes?"

  
"Could you..." the shy Captain faltered in his question and the Marshall waited patiently for the completion of the sentence.

  
"... Hold me?" he heard in the softest and tiniest voice he had ever heard. A milestone had been passed by this question and the horse masters finally turned on his side meeting the gaze of the other trembling and insecure man.

  
"Of course." he smiled back brilliantly.

  
Faramir shyly smiled back and turned his back to Éomer. The broader man pulled the copper haired man close to him. Chest fitting closely against back and he spread their blankets out on both of them to share even more heat. The Prince leaned up a bit and gave a soft kiss to the backside of the once injured shoulder of Faramir.

  
"You're safe with me." he whispered and lay back down again holding his love even closer under the stars.

 

* * *

 

  
"Favorite color?"

  
"Grayish blue. The sky before the rain."

  
"What is that for an answer?"

  
"It's the color of your eyes, Faramir."

  
That answer definitely made the current of questions stop for a while. And it made the Gondorian stupidly smile out in front of him.

 

* * *

 

  
"Favorite dish?"

  
"Bacon wrapped sausages. I do so love my sausages."

  
"That we all know!" Éothain interrupted the conversation. Making the group roar out with laughter at reminding the 'I prefer cocks' speech from months ago.

  
This time Éomer blushed furiously.

 

* * *

 

  
"I like daisies. Or any other wild flower actually."

  
"Are you telling me this as a piece of information or do you want me to do something with this piece of information?"

  
"Just making you aware of the fact."

  
The next field they crossed with wild flowers, Éomer made them halt and grab a bite.  
"I wish I could have you painted like this. You. Framed by wild flowers." he whispered in Faramir's reddening ear.

  
"No, this is better. It's real." and the Ranger pulled down the Marshall to sit beside him in the flowers.

  
"Thank you." and gave a soft lingering kiss on Éomer's chin where stubble had been forming for the last six days.

  
"No. Thank you." the horse master smirked back.

  
Nobody said a word when Faramir gathered a bunch of flowers and decorated his mare's mane with it.

  
They all knew it was him who was so skilled with braids and before they knew it the horse men had gathered closer and asked the sworn shield for help with their own braiding technique.

All horses got very pampered that day. True in the way of the people of Rohan.

 

* * *

 

  
"Tonight's our last night out in the open." Éomer started the conversation when he drew up short next to his love.

  
"Aye. Hopefully I get to do this more often."

  
"If it depended on me, you would be here with me all the time."

  
Faramir held his gaze for a minute.

  
"I'm going to start looking for fire wood." the blond grunted and slid off his horse.

  
"I'll join you."

  
Together they started walking towards the edge of the forest picking up dry wood and stacking it up in their arms. Talking followed them there and raucous laughter sounded from the encampment behind them.

  
"I've barely turned my back and they're building a party." the Marshall joked.  
The Ranger did not reply and Éomer curiously turned around to face the other man. He was met by an inscrutable look and that made him gulp almost audibly.

  
The wood fell to the ground.

  
Within the blink of an eye the Captain strode up to the blond and gripped his clothes where his cloak was hanging from his shoulders.

  
Faramir surreptitiously glanced around and pulled the Marshall with him barely out of sight of the other men.

  
Pupils blown wide they just stared at each other and Éomer would deny it will all his might that he could not hold back a whimper when his back hit a tree trunk.

  
Easily he molded between tree and man. Chests heaving and then Faramir licked his own lips while staring at Éomer's mouth and hesitated. The horse master closed his eyes in surrender.  
Tentatively they shared a chaste kiss. Their warm albeit a bit chapped lips softly touching the surface.

  
The Marshall all but melted into a puddle and groaned silently at the new sensation. Reluctantly Faramir drew his head back noticing how the Prince tried to follow his mouth in desperation.

  
"I..." he tried to say but only pulled his suitor closer to his body.

  
"You're trembling." the Ranger could finally whisper.

  
Éomer tried to clear his throat and reply but he found he could not speak. Instead he reached his gloved hands up and buried his fingers in Faramir's hair pulling his head back down to his. Slanting their mouths together in a bold gesture.

  
The Gondorian growled softly but encouraging into his mouth and gently bit his lower lip making the Marshall nearly collapse because of the abrupt malfunctioning of his knees. Head thumping back against the tree trunk he gasped for air and dove right back in.

  
Faramir tasted warm and Éomer could catch a soft whiff of the tea he had drunk that morning. He suddenly noticed how his hands had been roaming from the Rangers hair and clutching the slender and strong back in order to push them even closer together.

  
The Captain pulled back again feeling a bit alarmed at the multitude of emotions that were coursing through his veins. It made him feel suddenly so very exhausted and he let his forehead rest on the broad shoulder in front of him.

  
Prince Éomer heard the panting voice next to his ear and carefully embraced the over stimulated man who was still keeping him pinned against the tree.

  
"My Lord?" a voice in the distance asked making both men jump apart and they frantically started to smooth out their clothes and hair.

  
Faramir quickly turned around and picked up the pile of wood hazardously laying on the ground. The tips of his ears shining red he left, without a word, back to the rest of their group.

 

* * *

  
"What was so urgent that you needed to speak to me in private on the eve you've just returned from your patrol?" Éowyn curiously asked her nervous brother.

  
"I know about Faramir's past. That he's been..." Éomer choked on the last word.

  
"I see." his sister sadly replied.

  
"And we kissed."

  
Her mouth dropped open and she made to answer when a knock sounded on her door.

  
"Who is it?" she implored.

  
"Faramir, your Majesty. Can I have a word?"

  
"Just a moment please."

  
"Don't tell him I'm here to talk to you about it." her sibling hissed in panic. They frantically looked around for the solution. The Marshall really did not want to see Faramir until he had the time to speak about his concerns with his sister.

  
" _Hide_." Éowyn whispered after a moment of indecision.

  
The Prince made a great 'what!' face and lowly answered back "You cannot be serious."

  
"Now."

  
He rolled his eyes and hid under the bed out of view by the lowly hanging drapes of the furniture.

  
"Don't breath so loudly." she then commanded and opened the door with a beaming smile.

  
"My Lady?" the Ranger asked at finding his friend in such a flustered state.

  
"I apologize for the delay, I was not yet decent."

  
Éomer tried not to hit his head against the underside of the bed out of sheer stupidity of their action. How old were they? He had no right to intrude on Faramir's privacy and he should let him know of his presence.

  
"Come in and sit with me by the window."

  
They did so and Éowyn patiently waited for the Captain to start talking while folding her hands gently in her lap. Trying her very best not to appear too nervous. She had no idea why instinct made her react in this way to hide her brother under her bed.

  
"I have kissed Éomer." The name fell so gracefully from Faramir's mouth making the man under the bed shiver from the sheer luxury of hearing it.

  
The Queen quietly implored him to continue.

  
"And it... It was splendid and I was frightened at the same time. I may have hurt him when I turned away."

  
"You turned him away?"

  
"No, not like that. I... We were... And then... It just became too much for me to handle. No one has ever been gentle to me in that way. Let me control the how and when. It's heady and it makes the fear grow in me."

  
"Fear for what?"

  
"Rejection. Doing something wrong. I never had this responsibility before. In a... Relationship."  
"I don't understand." the White Lady kindly queried.

  
Éomer was happy she asked that for he did not understand either.

  
Faramir jumped up from his chair and started to pace in an agitated manner. "What if he wants more? What if I can't give him that? What if he wants more but not in the official sense, I couldn't bear that! Or what if he loses his patience and hurts me unknowingly?"

  
"My friend. My brother would never force himself on you. If that is what you are worried about."  
The sibling under staring up at the dark wood nodded in agreement with her words.

  
"I KNOW THAT! It's just... It was easier for me just to be used. Not to feel anything and now... My chest feels like it's been caved in by one single blow of my heart. I fear he may not feel as strongly about me like I feel about him." he concluded. "And I'm not ready to put my soul on the line just to be disappointed."

  
"I can easily surrender my body for his pleasure. But I cannot do the same with my heart! I'm broken. Damaged. Nothing's working properly anymore."

  
"What do you mean?"

  
No answer.

  
"Faramir stop hiding your face and tell me what you mean?"

  
A choked murmur was her only reply.

  
"Don't be afraid. You can trust me." feeling a small pang of guilt at hiding her brother under the bed.

  
The Ranger, completely feeling ashamed, nervously tried to form a proper answer to her question.  
"I want him." he hoarsely said. "I go mad in my desire for him and it physically hurts me sometimes. The moment we kissed and touched makes the want turn into fear. It has never been pleasurable for me. Why would this be any different? It does not matter if I crave his mind and body. It will just feel the same. I wish we could just stay at this stage and never progress any further."

  
Éomer gulped at hearing the raw need in the ex-Steward's voice.

  
"It does matter. And it won't be the same. Love will make it different. Will make it good and feel safe for you. I am certain my brother wants you too and he would wait until you were ready."  
The Marshall was glad for his wise sister who only knew him too well but had a better way with words.

  
"A rational part of me knows that. Understand it. However. The part in me that once was innocent and was destroyed still fears."

  
"I completely get what you mean by that but my brother is not such a man you fear him to be. Not all man are the same. You only had the disadvantage by only knowing the most awful men of all mankind."

  
"I know he's better. He's practically perfect."

  
His back was starting to cramp up in his uncomfortable position but those words flattered him so much the horse lord momentarily forgot his precarious position.

  
"Test my brother. Push him to the limit and see how well he will respond to your needs."

  
"I just can't..."

  
"Whatever you presume to think my brother will or will not do is wrong. It makes you a hypocrite. Never judge someone of the conclusions you've drawn of others. Of other experiences. You're making the same mistake Éomer has made and he is still making up for it. Go find him. Talk about it or test him. I do not care, but don't be this pathetic fool full of uncertainty."

  
Faramir felt shocked by her rude words. They cut straight to the point and tore him out of his pit full of pity.

  
"You're right. What if I push him away instead?"

  
"You will see. A man of Rohan always rises to the challenge. We are a stubborn bunch of idiots."

  
"No doubt about it." the Ranger smiled and with a bow he left the room.

  
"Did you hear all that?" Éowyn whispered furiously when her brother crawled out from under the bed.

  
"That would be hard to miss."

  
"What will you do, Éomer?"

  
"Rise to the challenge of course, my dear sister." and he too left a baffled woman alone in her chamber.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was nuzzling Firefoot in the neck while cooing sweet nothings to his loyal horse when the animal whipped up his head when it heard someone entering their stall in the stable.  
The Marshall glanced over the back of his steed and saw a skittish Ranger step closer to the other flank of the stallion.

  
"Good morning." the horse lord said and returned to brushing the animal's coat.

  
"I... I apologize for running away after we kissed."

  
"Don't fuss about it. I understand."

  
"You do?"

  
"I do. I was overwhelmed too."

  
"Overwhelmed?" the sworn shield asked.

  
"Aye, with emotions and uncertainty."

  
"You have no reason to doubt yourself, Éomer."

  
"Haven't I? I am so terribly afraid to say or do something wrong and lose you. I know you don't trust me yet not to break you. It goes both ways, my friend. You have as much power over me as I have over you. Maybe you even have more and you don't realize it."

  
"I have more power?" the ex-Steward echoed in disbelief.

  
"Of course you do. Pardon my language but, I have fucked up. Really badly in the past. I've hurt you too many times to count and I'm not proud of it. My life and future is devoted to righting that wrong. Whatever it takes I will redeem myself and try to deserve you."

  
"Deserve me?" Faramir croaked "It is I who do not deserve you!"

  
Éomer sighed when he realized the Gondorian still not realized how important and powerful he was. He pitched the bridge of his nose in frustration and sighed once more.

  
"Faramir... I care very deeply for you. The depth scares me and know I will do anything to make you happy. Ask me anything and I will grant it to you."

  
"The sentiment is very much appreciated however I must note the unfairness of it all. I get to ask you to answer any question. I get to ask you to do any task. And you just do it. Why should you not have the right to ask the same of me?"

  
"Do you desire it so?"

  
"Yes! It would make me feel more balanced in the pursuit of a relationship. A relationship we are trying to achieve."

  
"All right. Both ways then."

  
"Yes." the Ranger agreed.

  
"First question." Éomer started "What do I have to do to make you realize I won't just use you and that I'm very serious about you?"

  
"What? Has Éowyn said anything to you?"

  
"She hasn't said anything to me. Answer my question."

  
"I... I don't want to have all the control and responsibility between us. I can't handle to be the one making all the decisions."

  
"So, you'd want me to take the lead and back off whenever it becomes too much for you?"

  
"Basically..."

  
"Good. We agreed on something. See. We're talking things through. Ask me your question." The Marshall then asked feeling his heart thumping wildly.

  
"Do you desire me? Physically?"

  
Éomer tightened his grip on his horses mane and nearly dropped the brush.  
"You still don't believe that I desire you?"

  
Silence answered that question.

  
"I hunger for you Faramir. You enflame me just by being in your presence. Not only do I crave your words and mind but I wish to worship your body. I'm a very proud man and a stubborn one at that, though one word from you would make me submit in an instant. And at the darkest moments of the night I think about the events of the past day. Dream in awe about your words, your smile, your kindness and gentle eyes. How the sunlight on your hair brightens my whole fucking day and when I think about all of that I touch myself."

  
Faramir gasped in surprised arousal.

  
"I nearly bite through my pillows when I spend myself all over my sheets while thinking of you and the way you make me so happy. So yes. I bloody well desire you." Éomer concluded with harsh breathing. Trying to calm his fried nerves and the blood pooling in his lower regions.  
He expected this was the point where he had crossed the line too far and where Faramir would leave him to his own depraved thoughts.

  
What he did not expect was the next answer.

  
"Then prove it to me." the Ranger dared him to do. Excitement plainly written on his face.  
Instead of asking 'now?' or 'here?' or saying 'are you out of your mind?' the Prince just nodded and with shaky hands he started to loosen the cords of his trousers. Glad that his horse stayed calm during their heated discussion and remained in between the two men.

  
Faramir heard the rustling of the cloth and when he peeked under Firefoot for a fraction of a second he saw strong and naked calves. With trousers pooled around the ankles. He could only gape in return and watch the flushed face of the Marshall over the back of the horse.  
Éomer breathes a groan of relief at the first touch of his hard member closing his eyes for a moment from the sheer pleasure of this charged situation. He placed his left hand on top of Firefoot to lean on it while he was 'proving' himself. Soon it was clasped by another hand and the Marshall looked startled for a moment when meeting the grey eyes. His cock pulsed warmly in his hand at the connection between the two men.

  
"This is very risky." Faramir rasped out.

  
The blond strokes himself gently at first and moans. Already feeling the tell tale signals of an approaching climax.

  
"This won't take long." he grunted out and he whimpered when he saw the Ranger bit his lower lip in answer.

  
"Does this excite you?" the horse lord stammers while trying to push back the pleasurable feelings that made his stones draw closer to his body.

  
"Yes." was the low and dark reply.

  
"Do you want me to draw..." a soft grunt "..Draw this out?" while letting his fingers fly over the hard appendage now slick with wet arousal and sweat.

  
"No." came the even lower answer "But I want you to watch me when you shatter."  
Their eyes locked and the only warning Éomer could give was the low guttural groan, nearly growl, when the intense wave of pleasure drowned him.

  
It was difficult to hold his eyes open during the pumping of his hips into his tight fist but he managed. His eyes drawn on the redness on Faramir's cheeks. The attractive and excited sparkles in his eyes and the way he kept worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

  
"Ye God, Fara..." the Marshall sobbed, hand movements erratically, when the last spurt of semen left his body.

  
He slumped down and noticed how hard his legs were shaking.

  
"This is as vulnerable as it gets, is it not?" he shyly and in raspy voice asked the Ranger after finding his voice again.

  
"Aye." Was the gravelly reply. Their gazes met again. Arousal mixed with a trickle of coyness.

  
Faramir cleared his throat several times before he could say another word.  
"My, do the Men of Rohan rise to the occasion. Indeed they do."

  
Éomer just stared in disbelief and before he knew it he threw back his head and roared with laughter making Faramir smile brightly at seeing the horse lord this happy. The half naked man lifted up his trousers and was relieved to find his seed had not touched his steed's coat but had fallen on the floor between the hay instead. He wiped away the sweat on his forehead and the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes from mirth.

  
"We've resolved this issue then?" the Prince smiled a tad embarrassed.

  
The ex-Steward stepped around the horse and let his eyes hungrily rove over the wanton picture the horse master made. The blond man felt his mouth dry at once when he noticed the tenting in front Faramir's breeches and he smirked knowingly up at his love.

  
"Enjoyed the show, have you?"

  
"Indeed I have." Faramir smirked back "It has been very... Inspiring." and bent forward to kiss Éomer softly on the mouth.

  
"I will have a lot to think about. At night." the Ranger shot as a parting gift over his shoulder when he left. Making the Marshall's spent member already twitch again in excitement.

 

* * *

 

  
"Why the good mood?" the White Lady asked interested. "Have you talked with Faramir?"

  
"Yes, I have." Éomer grinned broadly.

  
"And?"

  
"Let us say that I've apparently risen to the occasion." he waggled his eyebrows.

  
"Ew! I did not need to know that brother!" and she slapped the back of his head in amused disgust.

  
The First Marshall beamed even more and caught the subtle ogling from Faramir at the other side of the room.

  
"You're being too obvious, you know." Éowyn smiled when she noticed the trance that had arisen between the two love birds. With great difficulty Éomer tore his gaze away from the beautiful man and turned his attention back on his plate with a smile.

  
"Promise me this will be the last 'practice' banquet before the delegation of Rhûn arrives."

  
"I promise, I just need it to be perfect. You know how important all parties think the occasion since the renewing of the Oath of Eorl. We are responsible for opening up to the East. I do not wish to disappoint the King of Gondor."

  
Her brother carefully goaded her face when she spoke of Aragorn but he could read nothing off it and he hoped it was because she had worked passed her hurt feelings of rejection more than a year ago now.

  
"We'll do splendid." he commented instead.

  
"Aye, hopefully less drunk." his sister nodded at the men on the other side of the table close to Faramir.

  
Boisterous laughter came from that side of the room and they were, once again, joking and making lewd comments about one another making Éomer grin.

  
"Drink Faramir! Oi! Oi! Oi!" the spurred him on but the Gondorian shrug his head.

  
"I don't drink!" he tried to shout over all noise.

  
"Boo! Punishment! Punishment!"

  
"I decide you must drink one cup or dance on the table!" Hamling shouted. "For my broken nose!"

  
"Hear! Hear!" the rest of them yelled in agreement.

  
"FINE! One cup!" and the Ranger downed the cup of wine. He nearly spat it out "It tastes awful!" making the men only laugh louder. The Marshall shared a happy smile with his sister who tried to hide her giggles behind a slender hand.

  
Soon Faramir had to drink another cup for insulting the wine of Rohan and another.

  
"No more!" he moaned in laughter after the third cup giving him a wine belly.  
The table started swaying in front of his eyes and anyone could easily see that the Captain was rapidly descending into drunkenness. Being not used to drinking at all.

  
Waldred another guard of Edoras, feeling bold after all the ales he drank, sidled closer to Faramir's side. Slinging his arm around the intoxicated man and grabbing his chance now he could. The man started nosing the side of the ex-Stewards face and the Ranger rolled his head to the side in surrender unaware of his body acting without rational thought.

  
"Waldred, don't..." Éothain started to warn the young man when he saw he was nuzzling into Faramir's cheek now. When a strong hand gripped Waldred by the neck, dragged him of the bench and threw him in the wall behind them.

  
The whole table stilled not quite understanding yet what happened until Faramir let his head loll back up and he smiled up at Éomer.

  
"Hi." he grinned stupidly.

  
"Hello yourself."

  
"I'm drunk."

  
"I can see that." the Marshall warmly replied.

  
"Hold me, Éomer?" That response left the people in the Great Hall jerking and gasping in surprise.

  
"Of course." the tall horse lord said and placed himself, thigh on each side, on the bench cradling Faramir's back to his chest and holding the tipsy man carefully.

  
"Aye, that's one way of coming out in the open." Hamling toasted.

  
And the banquet resumed without a glitch.

  
Éowyn thought the two men beautiful together. Seeing them talk in low voices to each other made her heart ache in desire to find someone too. For now she could only be happy for her brother and her best friend.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir and Éowyn were just returning from their inspection of the Guest House for the hastily approaching visit when they halted their conversation to watch the training going on in the Courtyard in front of the stairs of the Castle.

  
The Ranger tried not to flush too badly when he noticed that Éomer, as most of the other men, were not wearing their shirts. Their backs shiny from sweat and so much gold skin under the sun. Muscles rolling alluringly during the fights. He almost groaned out loud when he caught side of the First Marshall's chest. Tiny dark nipples, a hard and flat stomach and dark blond hair scattered over the wide expanse of his beautiful...

  
"Oi! Faramir, enjoying the view!" Elfhelm shouted feeling mischievous.

  
Éowyn's sworn shield closed his mouth with a clack of his teeth and lowered his eyes feeling shamefaced.

  
Was he that obvious?

  
"Faramir. They know." the White Lady hinted besides him.

  
"What do you mean 'they know'?" he asked her astonished.

  
Éothain approached the pair, swiping the sweat of his face and replied "Hmm. Let me see. It may have something to do with you getting drunk."

  
"Aye. And seducing a man of the guard." Hamling continued.

  
Hama snickered "Making a certain someone act out in jealousy."

  
"Throw the man bodily as for away from you as possible." Elfhelm intercepted the laughing.

  
"And you drunkenly snuggle close to this certain Lordship." The Second Marshall ended the anecdote with a nod of the head to the Prince who tried to hide his unease.

  
Slapping his hands on his face the Captain tried to avoid to look at anyone while he tried to overcome being upset about what had happened.

  
"I am sorry." he heard Éomer say awkwardly. He had come closer and was ready to accept whatever Faramir thought necessary.

  
"He was going to kiss you. I could not let that happen."

  
The Ranger sighed. "You sure have no reservations at all anymore for doling out apologies do you." he just stated exasperated with this turn of events and looked up only to see a naked sweaty chest in front of him. It proved very challenging to rip his eyes of that delectable piece of human being and look up into Éomer's eyes.

  
"It's all right. It had to happen someday." the Gondorian tried to smile back but he saw his answer did not yet reassure his love of his acceptance of the situation.

  
"Really. It's fine." and he stood on his toes lightly kissing the salty lips from the taller man in front of him. The Marshall closed his eyes and carefully leaned into the ex-Stewards embrace.  
Reluctantly they parted and remembered they had an audience.

  
"Yes, euhm." Faramir cleared his throat "I'll see you later." and turned back to a beaming Éowyn.

 

"My Lady. Let's go over the welcoming etiquette once more." and led her away by the arm.  
When he threw a last glance over his shoulder he saw Éomer still staring at him until he received a couple of cheering slaps on the back for this newest development.

  
He smiled.

 

* * *

 

  
Flags had been raised. Colored banners were waving in the wind. The sun shone down upon the cleaned streets and all citizens were wearing their Sunday's best clothes. A hand shortly touched Faramir's side. "You look delicious." Éomer smirked down and straightened back up behind their Queen. Waiting for the Rhûnedainesque delegation to arrive. The Ranger just grinned in front of him as answer. Inside he was extremely nervous.

  
All of Edoras had been preparing for this day for so many months. They could not allow this diplomatic affair to go wrong. The people of Rhûn were an elusive people with many riches in their tropic forests.

  
Everyone held their breath when they entered through the gate. The long train with darkly colored people covered in many veils. Tambourines and flutes accompanied the men and women on their strange looking animals.

  
"What are those?" Hama hissed under his breath.

  
"Camels." Éothain answered trying to calm his nerves and desperately trying to remember as many Rhûnedainesque words as possible.

  
Éomer glanced at his sister and thought she looked like a goddess. Her snow white dress billowing mightily in the wind and her hair was braided. Decorated with a embroidered cloak with Simbelmynë and the delicate crown on top of her head. The Marshall knew he didn't look so bad either going on the hungry look sent his way by Faramir when he appeared in the Great Hall. His official costume felt a bit scratchy with the high golden collar and it was too warm to stand outside in the sun for too long. The dark green and emerald red robes making him sweat uncomfortably in the most intimate places. He wished he could swim in the river and then imagined his love swimming in the river making his breath go shallow.

  
"Smile." Faramir murmured when he noticed the Prince staring at him.

  
The horse lord snapped his attention back forward and smiled just in time for the caravan to halt in front of the stairs. The music swelled for a moment and then died down. Closely followed by the musicians of Rohan welcoming their visitors with an approachable tune.

  
When those beautiful, but completely different notes then those of the visitors, quieted down the guests jumped of their imposing animals and strode up close. Éowyn opened the conversation and welcomed the foreigners warmly in their own language and the whole court bowed in invitation and straightened back up.

  
The three men at the top of the delegation mumbled some words in their own dialect and the biggest man stepped forward and bowed elegantly. He took away his veils and the White Lady stood eye to eye with the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His big dark green eyes took her breath away and her eyes roved over the nearly black smooth skin the impressive figured owned.

  
"Thank you, mi'Sheikha. My name is Sheikh Bramastor of Rhûn. I gladly be welcomed here in land of Rohanni." and he smiled the most pearly white warm smile at the Queen.  
He took her hand and gently bowed over it. Kissing it with great care and reverence. Then he drew up short, kissed both her hands and then both her cheeks. Making Éomer growl softly and almost draw out his sword.

  
"It's their ritual." Faramir hissed with a hand on the angrily trembling arm calming the big man next to him.

  
The Marshall's sister smiled a bit bedazzled and repeated the gesture. Holding the very big black hands with soft pink hues into hers. Kissed them and then needed to stand on the tip of her toes to reach the huge Sheikh. Bramastor had to bow down so she could kiss both his cheeks and a spark ignited between the two in the lingering kisses.

  
They shared some more words of welcome and soon daggers were exchanged between the Marshalls and three other lords of Rhûn.

  
The Queen gracefully placed her hand on the strong black arm of Bramastor and smiled brilliantly at him while he escorted her back up the stairs. Many men and women stared at the blackest skin they had ever seen. And many hearts sighed at seeing how extraordinarily beautiful the pair of them made.

  
One as white as the moon. The other as dark as the night.

 

* * *

 

  
"I don't like him." the Marshall grumbled out loud when the welcoming banquet was well underway. Éowyn had yet to stop conversation with the charming black man at her side and it did not sit well with her brother that she could not tear her eyes away from the Sheikh.

  
"She's a grown woman. She can handle herself. You cannot fault her at being interested in a beautiful man." Faramir tried to placate the Prince.

  
"You think he's beautiful?" and the horse master's hand tightened around the Ranger's under the table.

  
"Yes. He is. Are you pouting?"

  
"No."

  
"I would be a liar to say he isn't handsome. Though..."

  
Éomer perked up interested.

  
"... He's not as handsome as you." the ex-Steward concluded. And the blond man let out a breath after being consolidated by those words.

  
"You're such a jealous man."

  
"There's a difference between jealous and possessive."

  
"You feeling particularly possessive tonight?" the Captain flirted.

  
The Rangers eyes heated up while he slowly slid his hand up the thigh of his blond neighbor and halted the motion just before it would touch a very intimate place that started to react to the touch.

  
"You torture me." Éomer groaned and slid his hand on top of the slender one resting high up his thigh. Pressing it down so it would not move any higher.

  
"Stop looking at each other as if you wish to devour the other right here on this table." Elfhelm hissed at them. That made them remember their duties and both men let go and shoved a little bit more distance between them.

 

* * *

 

  
Breakfast the next day was a quiet affair with only the people of Rohan. The folk of Rhûn had a lie in from their long trip and would eat in the guest house whenever they awoke.

  
Dinner that evening would be a private affair between the Queen and the Sheikh.

  
"What have you been speaking of last night?" Éomer interrogated his sister.

  
"Many things." she blushed back.

  
"You like him?"

  
"Éomer! That's none of your business!"

  
"You do!"

  
"I am not having this conversation with my brother." Éowyn angrily said and pushed her chair back from the table. The other men standing up until she left the table and then sat back down again.

  
"Oh, I scheduled the tour for this afternoon. You and Faramir may do the honors." she sweetly pegged him back in his place.

  
Éomer harrumphed in reply.

 

* * *

 

  
That afternoon the First Marshall took Bramastor and his First Men out to visit the City. Together with Faramir they could explain almost anything from the history and the building of Edoras to the traditions of Rohan. They saved the stables for last and Éomer was talking to Bramastor about Firefoot when he noticed one of the First Men lay a hand on his Ranger's shoulder while he had been explaining something about the riding style of the Rohirrim.

  
Bramastor noted the slight halting in the Prince's conversation and followed the look to see his right hand making the moves on the sworn shield of the Queen.

  
Éomer continued the explanation while keeping an angry eye on the other men when the Sheikh asked him "You two. Are you Anni'esta?"

  
In all the foreign vocabulary the horse master knew, he had never come upon the word Anni'esta.  
"I don't understand?" he tried to ask as friendly as possible. He did not like not knowing something and really did not want to feel like a fool in front of his sister's potential love interest.

  
"You share bed?"

  
That question made the Marshall turned red and he muttered "Not yet." embarrassedly back as a reply.

  
"But you want?"

  
"Yes." Éomer said trying to hide the longing gaze he threw at the Gondorian.

  
"I see."

  
"Travi!" the Sheikh suddenly barked "Ni perka'est di Faramir. Faramir mosta i Marshall'o Anni'est. Ni mano'et!" he concluded and the men nearest to Faramir jerked his hand back.

  
"I apologize." Travi, apparently, said with a formal bow to Éomer. That made Faramir's eyebrows definitely rise.

  
The tour continued and no one touched the Marshall's intended again during the complete stay of the people of Rhûn.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was keeping an appropriate distance while talking to the Ranger next to him. They were walking the hallways of the Castle and trying to figure out a way to engage the men of Rhûn into combat. For their entertainment and pleasure only of course when they turned a corner and Faramir rudely interrupted him.

  
"We are alone."

  
The Marshall hummed and continued to speak about a potential tournament when the Captain interrupted him again midsentence.

  
"Kiss me."

  
That made him shut up and soon Faramir was pushed up against the wall. His hands clawing in the long blond hair and pulling Éomer's face closer.

  
Their lips were mapping out each other's face and with a groan the taller man kissed, nibbled and licked a way down the Gondorian's neck. Filled with desperate need he bit down making the other man moan and wrap his legs around the horse master's hips.

  
Éomer was now holding up the Ranger against the wall and he dared to peek his tongue out. Scanning the side of Faramir's mouth and demanding entrance.

  
They were suspended in desire for a moment when the Captain allowed his mouth to open.  
Tongues fiercely battled the other one's warm and slick heat. Without knowing how or what or even when their arousal touched making them spark even hotter than before.

  
"Fuck!" the Prince shouted in obvious need and rubbed himself harder against the surrendering Ranger pinned to the wall.

  
"You want me." Faramir groaned.

  
"Yes!" the blond man desperately rutted against the ex-Steward.

  
"You need me."

  
"YES!"

  
Harsh fingers clamped down on his tension wracked back. Probably even leaving bruises there but Éomer did not care. The Castle could've burned down and he still would not be able to think of anything but Faramir's sensual mouth. The seductive kisses were burning a path all through his soul and making him physically ache.

  
The Ranger closed his warm mouth around the Prince's earlobe and bit down on it making Éomer almost collapse on the floor. His legs were shaking so badly Faramir could feel it in his own body. Or was that him shivering so fiercely? He did not know. Nor did he care. Never before had a physical altercation felt so good to him.

  
"We need to do this more often." the taller man growled and licked his way back into the sworn shield's mouth when a polite cough interrupted them.

  
Both men froze.

  
"Tell me that's not my sister." Éomer groaned.

  
"It's your sister." Faramir whispered back.

  
"Tell me she's alone."

  
"She's not alone."

  
The Marshall slowly let his Ranger back down on the floor and thumped his head against the wall trying to will his control back.

  
"Well. This is humiliating." a bright red Faramir choked out while smoothing out his clothes. The other man was still trying to breath normally whilst leaning against the wall completely frustrated.  
He adjusted himself subtly as to not attract any stares to that particular region and turned around crossing his arms in defense.

  
"Really, Éomer? In the middle of the day? In the middle of the hallway? I thought you had better control."  
Bramastor leaned down and whispered something in her ear making her smile. She was glad to see he took it as nothing offensive.

  
"Well then. Carry on to the Great Hall and you two. " she said when moving passed the well scolded men "Behave!"

  
"Yes, mother." the Marshall mumbled still completely embarrassed.

  
When they left the hallway Éomer met Faramir's gaze and they just started to laugh hysterically.

 

* * *

 

  
Votes had been counted and it has been decided to host a Rohan-Rhûnedainesque tournament. Three contests from both lands, making a total of six, would be held in honor of the liaison between the two countries. Both sides had been training ardently and it showed in their steadfastness during practice.

  
Éowyn started the first game by stepping into the ring and proving herself a formidable opponent to the challenger from Rhûn. Niësta had eagerly stepped forward to make the claim on the first battle and both women had prepared for it.

  
The Marshall leg was jumping nervously when he saw his little sister enter the ring. He knew she had been trained but he had not trained her in knife play. Faramir had done so and Éomer did not know her good or bad her abilities were.

  
His mind was put at ease immediately when not yet a minute into the fight the Queen was clearly winning. Her hair had been bound back in a tight braid and her black tight fitting clothes did not restrict her graceful movements. Her overall attitude was defensive, a trait no doubt picked up from Faramir, and was effectively tiring her opponent out.

  
Lady Niësta had trouble lifting her arms and several superficial cuts had appeared on her body from being too slow. She tried to swipe the White Lady to the floor in a last desperate attempt but the Lady of Rohan easily sidestepped the maneuver and came back up behind the tired and almost defeated foreigner. Holding a knife against her throat.

  
Niësta threw her hands up in surrender and bowed full of good grace at her formidable opponent. The ladies shook hands and walked together of the field.

  
"Your Queen is amazing." Bramastor said on the chair next to the Second Marshall.

  
"Aye." Éothain replied grinning at the obvious infatuated Sheikh.

  
Éomer grunted.

 

* * *

 

  
After the spear throwing came the sword play and Éomer had been forbidden to challenge so he watched how Elfhelm battled an opponent from the people of Rhûn. Feeling excluded from the Games but it was not his place to challenge without consent of the Queen.

  
When he did received his challenge it was for the one thing he was sure he wouldn't fail at.  
He raced Bramastor neck to neck. He on Firefoot and Bramastor on a vicious Camel thinking it could surpass his magnificent steed.

  
It was a close call at last and the Prince barely won making him wonder at the abilities of such a strange creature. Sheikh Bramastor, was a gallant loser, and let Éomer touch his own riding animal. Making the men of Rohan come closer in curiosity and the next hour was spend with the men trying to ride the weird beast.

  
Especially Hama liked to gallop through the tall grass on the back of the spitting creature. Even Éowyn got lifted onto its saddle and she crowed with amusement at getting shook all the time during the ride. The Sheikh helped her down and his touch lingered on her sides for a moment too long. Still Éomer bit his tongue and dared not say anything.

  
A Rhûn won the bow shooting contest and everyone was amusing themselves with talking and watching the games when they noticed giant barrels being wheeled down the hill to the courtyard.

  
"What's this then?" Hamling inquired.

  
"Sheikh Bramastor asked to change the last contest to another game they play in Rhûn. Would you do me the honor of explaining the rules, my Lord?" Éowyn asked with a nod to the Sheikh.

  
"We call it Bössa. Two men challenge one another and they stand on a wooden board above these big..." and he gestured towards the enormous barrels "... and they are filled with water. You each get a stick wrapped on both side in cloth to numb the hits and try to beat the other man from the board in the water."

  
The men of Rohan mainly registered the words challenge, water and hit the other man in. So that was that and everyone was into the game.

  
Two men of Rhûn demonstrated the Bössa game when the barrels had been filled by more than twenty men.

  
It was very entertaining and everyone guffawed loudly when the challenger hit the board, lost his balance and dropped in the gigantic tub. Soon more men were giving it a try when all of a sudden a Rhûn stepped forward and challenged Faramir.

  
"My name is Latisto and I wish to challenge you to the Bössa, my Lord." the man politely asked in broken standard.

  
The Ranger reluctantly agreed for he did not wish to insult their guests but he did not like to fight. He had seen enough of battle to last a lifetime and even if it was a game it weighed down heavily on his nerves.

  
Éomer gave him an encouraging nod and watched his love prepare himself for the start of the battle. He saw the Captain shyly remove most of his clothes but kept on his white under shirt and black breeches. Unconsciously the Prince licked his lips in delight at seeing the sworn shield in such a state of undress. Immediately followed by the possessive thought that he did not like others seeing what was his.

  
Latisto helped the Gondorian up the board and Faramir nervously looked down in the water. The barrel was so big he would probably need to keep trampling his feet to stay afloat.  
"Let me test this first." he asked the Rhûn and together they traded some playful hits just so the ex-Steward could get a better feeling of his balance on the board and until he could get used on how the stick lay in his hands.

  
"All right." he finally said after some warming up and nodded. A bell sounded and the fight began.  
The copper haired man planted his feet firmly on the board and blocked any hit sent his way. Keeping a hold of his defensive position and trying to pinpoint a weak spot at the same time in Latisto's technique.

  
He noticed the Rhûn jumping back and forth all the time so after nearly five minutes of defensive strategy he intentionally caught a hit in the side and clamped his arm over the stick so he could swing his own with his other hand while the attacker was blocked of any movement.  
Latisto's stumbled after the blow in the middle of his stomach and fell backwards, letting go of his stick to balance. Faramir jumped and the board rattled on the tub so the Rhûn could not find purchase and slipped of the wood.

  
At the very last moment he grabbed a hold with his arms over the board and hung on it like his life depended on it.

  
The Gondorian hesitated at hitting the arms of the defenseless man and looked up for guidance to do the right thing and follow the right battle protocol of the Bössa. He should not have done that because the moment he was distracted Latisto grabbed a hold of his ankle and hung all his weight on it making Faramir fall.

  
A loud and painful grunt found its way out of the Rangers mouth when his ribs made contact with the board. All air got knocked out of him and he wanted to gulp for air when the only thing he could breath in was cold water. He choked and tried to find the ground but it was dark and he was suffocating in the coldness. Black spots formed before his eyes and he screamed Éomer's name internally clawing around to grab a hold of something.

  
A dark hand pulled him out of the basin and soon other hands were lifting him out of the water and laid him down on the soft grass next to the barrel. "Give him some air!" Someone shouted and soon light began to return into the Ranger's eyes. He gulped desperately for air and choked on a mouthful of water that had filled his lungs.

  
Water just kept coming out of his nose and mouth making him sick and dizzy. He shivered and instantly was brought back to his worst nightmare.

  
Feeling Lord Harnon's hands on his back he snarled "Don't touch me!"

  
He was so cold. His frame trembled.

  
"Faramir." a soft female voice said in the dark and then it all returned to him.

  
A strong hand was stroking his back again and the Captain finally calmed down.

  
"Let's..." he gasped "Not do that again. Any time soon." he ruefully tried to joke. Others soon joined them with relieved smiles.

  
"Éomer." the sworn shield asked.

  
"I'm here." that explained the warm hand on his back.

  
Faramir sought out the reassuring warm brown eyes looking at him full of worry.

  
"I'm very cold." he coughed.

  
"Let me help you up." the Marshall replied with a shaky voice. He had been scared to death when he had seen a frightened Faramir being immersed by the water.

  
With one arm swung under the other man's arm and holding the other shoulder he pulled the Ranger up and half carried, half dragged him inside the Castle through a side door.

  
"Typical this should happen to me." the ex-Steward muttered angrily to himself.

  
"It was an accident."

  
"I know. I feel very foolish right now."

  
Éomer opened the door to his chambers and smiled in return while he let Faramir pass by him. He quickly followed and closed the door behind him trying to see if there was anything he could do to be of assistance.

  
"I'm all right now. You can leave. I'll just change into warmer clothes."

  
"You said you were cold. Let me start a fire. The stone walls keep the warmth of the summer sun out."

  
"No, really. Everything is well. You join the festivities." Faramir tried again.

  
"You get out of your clothes. I'll put on a fire." the horse master ignored the demand and kneeled down next to the fireplace plucking some kindling out of the box next to it and deftly started to build a fire.

  
He blew on the tiny flame and let it spread. That's when he noticed that his Ranger had still not moved from his spot. Clothes dripping on the floor. The Prince raised his eyebrow inquisitively at his love.

  
"I am not going to undress with you here."

  
A dagger in his belly would probably have hurt less and Éomer winced.

  
"I see." he turned to face the now small burning fire in pensiveness and then stood up.

  
"I'll leave you to it." and tried not to sound too hurt.

  
"Éomer! Wait! I did not mean it like that."

  
"Then how did you mean it?"

  
"I just don't want you to see me. Naked."

  
"I had hoped that would be in my future one day but I understand that you don't trust me in this yet. Do you really think I would try to benefit from this situation? You nearly drowned and made me sick with worry in less than a minute and here you are shielding yourself from me. I understand." Éomer bitterly spat out.

  
"Éomer!" a disbelieving Captain tried to halt the angry Marshall.

  
"No! It's fine! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and warm!" and put his hand on the doorknob.

  
"On the other hand. Why _not_? You've seen me disrobed? I fucking touched myself in front of you and you still..." he bit the rest of his sentence off. Feeling very insulted indeed at the distrust Faramir displayed.

  
"Please. Look at me." Faramir sadly implored.

  
"I can't. I'm sorry."

  
"I apologize for hurting you, Éomer, but you have it completely wrong."

  
"Hurt me?" the Prince snarled and turned around. "You are not merely hurting me Faramir. You're tearing my guts out, you know that? I love you! Why can't you still trust me?"

  
His last words rang into the silent room. Only their heavy breathing breaking the silence.  
Faramir made the first move and opened the cords of his breeches. Letting them pool on the floor. He gracefully stepped out of them and then opened the low collar of his soaked shirt.  
Took a deep breath and lifted the shirt over his head. Baring himself completely naked to Éomer.  
The taller man was just looking at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes.  
Feeling vulnerable the Ranger crossed his arms in front of him.

  
"Now you know." and he turned around showing him the many lines crisscrossing his back.  
Whilst staring in the fire, the ex-Steward wished he could be anywhere else but here when two warm hands got placed on his shoulders.

  
The hands left and returned soon with a warm sheet to drape around the astonished and frail looking man still shivering with cold.

  
"I meant it when I said I love you." Éomer's hot voice ghosted in the Captain's ear. His long and warm arms embracing them together. Back to chest.

  
Faramir released a shuddering breath in relief and gratefully put his hands on top of the arms holding him.

  
The two men stared into the fire for a long time.

 

* * *

 

  
Latisto was the first one to approach Faramir later that day. Apologizing profusely in both Standard and Rhûnedainesque. The Ranger waved his apologies away with a tired smiled and said it had been an accident.

  
"Have you recovered? Are you all right?" Éowyn worriedly asked her best friend.

  
The Captain looked up at Éomer standing beside his sister and answered truthfully.

  
"I am now."

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was readying himself for bed after the grueling day full of commotion with the contests and the drowning and the revelation and the long dinner party and the... He sighed and wished Faramir were here. They had not spoken about what the Ranger had revealed but the Marshall had accepted it nonetheless. Yet he wanted to keep his love close and he felt insecure because Faramir had not said it back. Had not told the blond man he was loved too.  
He understood that it must be difficult to say and hard to come to a certain agreement with one's self, though he had hoped.

  
His door creaked open and Éomer swirled around to catch the intruder.

  
An anxious Gondorian awaited his judgment by the door.

  
"I could not fall asleep."

  
Prince Éomer nodded apprehensively and sat down on the side of his bed.  
Faramir closed the door behind him and quickly undress, again, to pull on his own night gown. The light illuminated the shadow of his body through the sheer fabric and the taller man on the bed reigned in his lust. It was not what was needed this night.

  
He gingerly lifted the covers and slid underneath. Watching the Captain's next move. The man still standing took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed.

  
"I hope I'm not being too... Forward." he shyly trailed off.

  
The horse lord slid closer to the wall leaving plenty of room next to him and Faramir joined him. Deliberately careful not to touch the Marshall while crawling under the covers. The soft light of the candles barely bright enough to still eye one another easily. A flame sputtered out and the men faced each other.

  
Éomer smoothly lifted himself on one elbow to look down at his love and swiftly veered closer to the other body. He leaned down and held his breath. Faramir seemed to be a very skittish animal next to him. Ready to bolt at any moment. But he didn't.

  
Soft kisses were shared while keeping their eyes open. Goading the other's reactions.  
The Marshall gently brushed the copper hair back from the pale face beneath him.  
He kissed the pliable lips under him once more and then settled back down. Hugging the Ranger close.

  
"Goodnight." he whispered and he did not say a word about the intense way Faramir seemed to attach himself to Éomer's body in his sleep.

  
Sleep came easily for once.

 

* * *

 

  
Sharing a bed had become an everyday experience. They never did anything more than kiss whilst in Éomer's personal chamber and he did not press for more with his Ranger.

  
Their bed was a safe place. A warm haven for Faramir.

  
Weeks passed and both men found peace with their new arrangement.

 

* * *

 

  
"Whoa!" the sworn shield suddenly shouted. His grey mare whining loudly and throwing her forelegs in the air. "Whoa!" the Ranger tried to calm her and immediately jumped off to see what had happened with his horse.

  
"What's wrong?" Éowyn asked. They had been out on a recreational ride with Bramastor and some of his men to show more of the beautiful fields of Rohan. The weather had been agreeable and the horses impatient to be of more use again instead of standing in the stable or doing short round in the courtyard.

  
"I don't know." Faramir lifted foot after foot to inspect the hooves for any injuries but could not see anything.

  
"Seems like she doesn't want you to ride her anymore." Hamling piped in. Frowning in consternation at the sudden strange behavior of the mare.

  
The Marshall whistled and pointed at a servant accompanying them. The young man came closer on his horse and on the Prince's command he took the reins and started the journey back to Edoras.

  
"Our best horse healer will look her over once she's back in the stable." Éomer  explained to his love.

  
"Will you still join us or will you go back home too?" Hama asked.

  
Faramir didn't know what to say when he realized he, too, had been thinking of Edoras as his home now.

  
"Nonsense, he'll still ride with us." the Prince snarled impatiently and held out his arm for the Ranger to grasp.

  
"Front or back?" the Captain asked.

  
"Front. I'm bigger." and drew Faramir up in front of him.

  
The two man spooned together snuggly and Éomer put his arm around the other's man belly to keep his steady. The reins loosely held in his other hand. The cords were almost completely unnecessary because the men of Rohan could blindly lead their horses with only the strong powerful muscles of their thighs.

  
"Comfy?" Elfhelm smirked.

  
"Why, yes, very much. Thank you for asking." the ex-Steward retorted a bit peevishly.  
The riders continued their ride at a very slow pace. Enjoying the views and following the stream when Éomer all of a sudden gasped softly when Faramir wiggled himself more at ease in the Marshall's lap.

  
"Don't move so much." the Prince lowly growled.

  
That made the sworn shield do it again with a smirk.

  
"Don't!" the horse lord warningly said "I haven't been... It's been weeks so stop tempting me."  
The Ranger tried to behave himself but it had been so long since he had felt Éomer's desire. Ever since the big revelation they hadn't done anything but chaste kissing and some secretive handholding. So he put his hands on the handle of the saddle between his legs and used it as leverage to push his rear subtly back. Rubbing it slowly against the clothed warm hardness trapped there.

  
"They'll notice." he got as groaned reply.

  
Faramir turned his head a bit sideways so he could catch the Marshall's gaze. His eyes were completely dark with arousal and he grinned devilishly.

  
"Then make sure they don't notice."

  
Éomer surreptitiously looked around and gathered the Captain's cloak together and draped it sideways over his thigh. Then he spread his own cloak, the gift made by his suitor, and drew it closer over the man in front of them. Shielding their lower bodies from sight and if someone asked they could say it was against the chilly morning breeze. Even in summer you could still speak of a cool wind between the mountains and near the river.

  
The Ranger used the saddle again as leverage and with every up of the horse he lifted himself a couple of centimeters. With every down he sensually slid his bottom against the hard lump behind him. Every downward stroke making Éomer hiss and groan. The strong arm around his belly clutched him hard trying to control the rhythm.

  
Because of the slow pace of the group the sexual act got drawn out. The blond man whimpered when he got so very close to the edge but their party halted for a minute while Éowyn could point something out at her guests.

  
The Marshall was probably looking cross eyed from desire at that moment and dangled precariously close on the brink of climax. It drew back as he shuddered out an annoyed breath.

  
"You're going to be the death of me." he moaned softly in the ear of the succubus in front of him.

  
"And what a way to go would it be." Faramir softly said back turning his head a fraction when he noticed nobody was watching them and closed their mouths together.

  
With the other's attention elsewhere he lifted himself again and slid down faster repeatedly while suckling on the trembling man's lip.

  
"I'm..." Éomer gasped in his mouth.

  
"Come." the Ranger commanded and ruthlessly bit in the lip making the Marshall freeze and then...

  
His hips pumped firmly against Faramir's backside while his low guttural groan got muffled by their mouths. The last spurts ripped silent mewls from his throat and he stilled when his member was completely spent.

  
Éomer dropped his head forward in happy defeat. Panting for breath against Faramir's shoulder.  
"You are wicked. I've soiled my pants like some uncontrolled youngling." he sighed.

  
The group then chose that moment to continue their journey and the horse lord hesitatingly let the arm around the man in front of him loosen up. Letting his hand slowly make its way down. The Prince swallowed audibly hoping that...

  
Faramir stilled his hand and Éomer sighed sadly.

  
"I won't do anything. I promise." the Marshall tried to reassure his Ranger.

  
"Then why even.." the other man trailed off.

  
The taller man grunted bitterly in reply and snatched his hand back. Looking straight forward.  
Faramir had gotten better at reading his suitor and frowned contemplating what had just happened.

  
"You wanted to just touch me?" he finally asked.

  
Éomer shrugged non-committingly.

  
"Please. I cannot read your mind."

  
The Marshall huffed "You know for certain that I desire you. That I love you. I have yet to see a prove of my desirability." and reddened immediately at his childish and insecure behavior.  
The Ranger grabbed Éomer's free hand and immediately placed it on the hard and warm bulge mashed between thigh and trouser leg. It jumped at the touch and Faramir softly hissed at the first hand ever to touch his hard member.

  
"Have no doubt about it." he just said and placed the big hand on his stomach again. Not yet ready for anything more than that.

  
Éomer nuzzled the back of his neck in gratitude and they relaxed enough to enjoy the rest of their ride.

 

* * *

 

  
"Let me make this clear. You know the man for barely three months and now you want to propose to him?" Éomer incredulously asked his sister at her announcement during the next Council meeting.

  
"Yes. If nobody had any complaints for political reasons I will do so." Éowyn steadfastly said.  
All the men around the table muttered under their breath though no one stepped forward with a valid reason why she should not marry the Sheikh.

  
"We only want what's best for you." Faramir said out loud.

  
"Do you care for him? Deeply enough for the rest of your life?"

  
"Yes." the White Lady whispered.

  
"Do you believe he cares for you in the same way?"

  
"He has but told me only in not so many words last time we had a private dinner."

  
"Would he come and join you here in Rohan?"

  
"He would."

  
"Has he acted inappropriately with you before now?" the Ranger then dared to ask what has been on most men their minds. They all wanted to protect their Queen. Sometimes still seeing the little girl she once was.

  
"Has my brother acted inappropriately with you? Have you two spoken about bonding?"

  
Faramir sputtered in reply.

  
"That's none of your business, Wynna!" Éomer roared indignantly.

  
"Neither is it yours. I will ask him. Today! Do I have your blessing or not?"

  
"Fine. When he says yes, you send him to me for a private conversation." the First Marshall huffed.

  
"Fine!" and she gathered her skirts and left the Hall unknowingly putting the idea of bonding into her brother's head.

 

* * *

 

  
"And?" The Ranger asked when Éomer finally left his private chamber.

  
"How did the conversation go between you and Bramastor?"

  
"He told me I could call him Brama now. As we are to be brothers in law." the Marshall grumbled.

  
"You'll allow it then?"

  
"Yes. My sister is wise enough. Or so I'm told." he smirked back at Faramir reminding them of their conversation on the watch tower.

  
"He seems like a good man to me."

  
"Aye." the horse master said.

  
"She's growing up faster than me." he sighed then.

  
His love noted how tired the taller man suddenly appeared to be.

  
"Let's take a walk." and clasped the bigger hand in his pale one.

  
"Talk to me."

  
And so Éomer did. Unburdening his fears about Éowyn and all the responsibilities laying down on her shoulders. About the fact that he was scared her marriage might fail and he could not bear to see her unhappy. And he was absolutely frightened to death if she should ever have to give birth. Many women had died during labor and he did not wish for that to happen.

  
"Your sister is stronger than most men I know. She will make her marriage work or kick Bramastor's arse when he doesn't try hard enough. We're all here to support her with her responsibilities. And for all I know. Childbirth could be a walk in the park after battling on the Fields of Pelennor."

  
"Thank you, Faramir. I needed to hear those words." the blond man smiled at his best friend.

 

* * *

 

  
"Should I thank you, Faramir?" the Queen asked beaming down at the men practicing in the courtyard.

  
"Thank me for what, my Lady?"

  
"For making my brother accept my engagement without a big fuss? For him trying to befriend and open up to Brama?"

  
"You don't need to. Those decisions were all his."

  
Éowyn felt her heart fill up with pride at the maturity and calmness her brother finally learned to display.

  
"Well, I thank you anyway for making him less a hothead than he used to be. What's your secret?" she jokingly asked.

  
And before Faramir could stop it he blurted out an answer.

  
"Sex."

  
Making the White Lady giggle hysterically once she saw he had not meant to say that judging by his red cheeks.

  
Their two suitors both looked up at the same time when hearing her laughter and Éowyn waved at them.

  
"Well then." she returned her attention to Faramir "You must be doing something right. Keep up the good work." and clasped him on the shoulder like another man jovially might have done. Once more illustrating how inappropriate his response had been.

  
Ears burning he left for the Archives. Maybe he would sleep there for a while. A month perhaps.

 

* * *

 

  
Not a day had passed since the angry declaration of love from Éomer to Faramir. From that moment on, every single day since, the Marshall had told or done something to reassure the Ranger of that love.

  
One day it were flowers next to their bedside table. The other day he would share one of his precious strawberries with the man. And on very special days he would just simply tell him 'I love you'. Not even caring that others could hear him.

  
Apparently the Prince had found another way to show him a measure of love in his own unconventional way.

  
"My horse is pregnant?" the Ranger asked disbelievingly. "How did that happen?" he nearly yelled.

  
"Well..." the healer started after his third inspection of Faramir's mare.

  
"Don't bother. I already know."

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was trading jokes with Éothain and feeling carefree enough to even start teasing Hama. Knowing full well how that could backfire.

  
"YOU!" Faramir suddenly came upon him. Pushing his pointing finger repeatedly into the First Marshall's chest.

  
"You mounted her!"

  
"Err... What?" Hamling asked confused. Had their Prince betrayed Faramir and cheated on him with a woman?

  
"My horse is pregnant! That's why she couldn't bear me as her rider anymore. Why didn't you tell me or no even better! Why didn't you ask my permission?"

  
"I thought it would be a nice gift." Éomer mumbled.

  
"A gift?"

  
"Yes, your own horse with the lineage of Rohan. Firefoot is a pure descendant of Shadowfax's breed and any foal of his pedigree is priceless."

  
"Oh."

  
Silence.

  
"Still. You could have asked."

  
"I wanted to tell you when she tried to throw you off. I had an inkling of why that might have been but it slipped my mind."

  
"It slipped your mind??"

  
"Aye!" Éomer embarrassedly looked around "As you well remember my mind was on other things at that time." he said with a pointed glare.

  
"Ah yes. I do remember that one small matter." the Ranger quipped back.

  
"SMALL matter??"

  
"Bye!" Faramir grinned and left the incensed Lord of Rohan stewing behind him.

 

* * *

 

  
The heavy door banged closed into its lock.

  
"Small matter?" Éomer repeated again lifting his eyebrow angrily.

  
Faramir was already in bed and put down his book on his lap to warily eye the insulted man at the door.

  
"Hmm, what?"

  
"You bloody well know what."

  
"No. maybe you should show me."

  
The Marshall stilled his furious pulling of his clothes in order to put on his nightshirt. It was the first time his love had made a suggestive move inside their bedchamber. He slowly turned and then casually started opening the buttons on his coat. Feeling the Ranger's eyes trail his fingers.  
Nonchalantly he shrugged the garment off and calmly hung it on the back of his chair. Then he put up his foot on the footrest next to his desk. Deliberately bending over in a way to display his firm thighs and took off his shoe and then he changed legs with a calculated 'tired' groan to pull off the other one.

  
Lazily Éomer pulled the slips of his shirt out of his breeches. Showing slivers of golden skin and then opened his collar. In one swift movement he pulled his shirt over head and he heard a sound.  
A strained sigh. Almost inaudible but the Marshall had caught it. He slowly lowered his arms making sure the firm muscles of his stomach caught the light of the fire in the most eye pleasing way possible.

  
He then made his way closer to the bed. Unhurriedly. Smoothing one hand down from his nipple, over his belly and softly fingered the coarse trail of hair there. His breeches hung low. The skin of the V-shape between his hips nearly glowing in the light. And if it weren't for his iron hard member and that one little ribbon his breeches would have dropped immediately to the floor.  
With intent he leisurely pulled his finger through the loop of the ribbon and slowly pulled it loose all the while maintaining his burning gaze upon the flustered man on the bed. A man who currently was breathing shallowly and clutching onto the book in his lap as if it were his last lifeline.

  
"Small matter?" Éomer throatily asked again. The question made Faramir whimper in need. And the breeches dropped to the floor.

  
"You know full well I meant it as a joke. Are you done now with putting up a show?" the frustrated Captain grumpily groaned.

  
"I don't know. Am I?"

  
Seconds ticked by.

  
"What do you want, Faramir?"

  
"I want. I want to see you. Just see you." came the frightened voice but at the same time thrilled and hungry tone in his voice.

  
"And I want you to enjoy this too."

  
"I always do, Éomer." the sworn shield shivered.

  
"Not in the way I want."

  
"What do _you_ want then?"

  
"I'll touch myself. But I want you to touch yourself too."

  
Faramir flushed all the way down his chest.

  
"I don't... I wouldn't... Éomer, I just can't.."

  
"Shhh. Breathe. Calm down and then tell me what exactly is bothering you." he patiently said.  
The Gondorian took a couple of deep breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them he bravely looked up and took in the perfect man in front of him.

  
"It has never been a moment of pleasure for me. This. The sharing of bodies. Never before. Only with you." he stuttered and continued "I've never achieved climax with another person and I don't know if I'll be able."

  
The standing man calmly thought about that answer.

  
"I don't want to disappoint you either."

  
"You never have and you never will disappoint me." Éomer kindly responded. "All I ask is that you try. I promise I won't touch you unless you want me to."

  
"All right." the man on the bed said and took another shaky breath. He lifted himself more upright and leaned against the headboard. After putting his book on the bedside table next to the horse toy he expectantly watched the blond.

  
The Prince leaned against his desk. Letting the cool wood carry his weight while he spread his legs slightly. He put his long hair behind one shoulder and smoothly slid down his hands. Teasing his nipples on the way south. He groaned at the first touch on his pulsing staff. Lazily he stroked it up and down. Wetness already seeping out the tip and he used it to smoothen his strokes.  
His other hand reached lower and Éomer firmly massaged the tight stones underneath his stiffness. "Oh." he murmured at the pleasurable feeling and put one foot back on the footstool giving Faramir an even better view now. The Marshall glanced through his squinted eyes and saw that his Ranger was slowly slipping his hand underneath the covers. Grasping something there and hissing softly.

  
"Yes. That's it." the horse master crooned. "Please touch yourself." he begged. Not in the least bit embarrassed by his obvious need.

  
Faramir bit his lip at hearing those arousing words.

  
"Talk to me." he moaned softly.

  
"You're so beautiful." Éomer panted and closed his hand more firmly around his cock. "I cannot believe you're gifting me this moment."

  
He paused his words for a second to catch his breath again and then continued. Spurred on by the wilder movement under the blankets now and the way that Faramir only reddened more and more.

  
"I love you. And all what you see here. Is yours. Anything you want." and he nodded down at his own body. Showing that his love had the right to lay claim on any part of his body and soul.  
"Éomer." the Ranger grunted and sped up his strokes.

  
The Marshall was glad to be leaning against his desk because his legs were trembling badly and he felt the familiar heat starting to pool in his lower body.

  
"One day I'm going to taste every part of that delectable body of yours."

  
"I will worship you. Devote days and nights mapping every inch of you. My need for you has only been increased since I've known you."

  
"Oh." Faramir suddenly interrupted.

  
Roving his eyes up and down the man on the bed, the horse lord started fucking his own fist in earnest now, not wanting to miss a second of what was almost happening.

  
"I fucking want you so much." he crudely added "I want to swallow you down and drink you until I drown."

  
"Oh! Oh!" the Captain started panicking. Feeling the climax rush up so quickly it couldn't be tampered down anymore.

  
"I want you to mount me and claim me in every way possible."

  
And when Faramir heard those words, that he may take his pleasure from Éomer in that way, he completely seized up and roared his overwhelming pleasure to the sky.

  
He just kept coming for so long he saw stars. Going blind with the sheer ecstasy of the act and completely missing the spectacular sight of Éomer's climax in response to his own.  
" _Fuck_!" he groaned utterly spent and flopped back uselessly on the bed. Panting and burning from shame from his lack of control. He still could not form coherent sentences when a wet cloth was handed to him.

  
Bashfully he took the cloth without looking up and the blond turned his back. Pretending to search for his night shirt but actually granting Faramir some privacy to clean himself up.

  
The Prince pulled on his shirt and crawled into the bed next to his lover.

  
"I love you." were the only words he said, kissed the befuddled man next to him gently and blew out the candle.

  
The Ranger kept staring at the ceiling for a long while. Lost in thought.

 

* * *

 

  
Days. Weeks. Months flew by and the wedding of the century had nearly arrived when Éowyn called Faramir forth to her private delegation room.

  
"You called for me, my Queen?"

  
"Yes. I have... News."

  
The Ranger silently asked her to continue.

  
"I received the list of guests who wish to attend the wedding. Many Gondorians have asked for the honor and I came across this one name..."

  
Eyes snapped open in realization.

  
"No." the Captain whispered in revulsion.

  
"Lord Harnon has asked to attend. And I knew the name sounded familiar. I wondered what I should do about it and I need you to guide me on this matter."

  
"You do what you have to do."

  
"I cannot allow this horrible man on my wedding. Not after what he has done."

  
A long silence lay heavily in the air.

  
"Éowyn. I will not decide in your stead but I'll tell you this. Lady Evenstar knows of my past. Maybe you both can work something out. I only wish you would tell me if I have to expect his presence."

  
"Are you certain? Whatever happens. Can you handle it?"

  
"Of course. I've made it this far."

  
The White Lady sighed. "All right. I will think about it. How do you and Éomer fair?"

  
Faramir shyly looked everywhere but at the woman in front of him.

  
"Just lovely." he choked out. Trying very hard not to remember last night when he had allowed the horse master to touch him softly under the blankets for the first time. Holding back a groan at the memory he desperately tried to reign in his libido.

  
Éowyn smirked at the flushed look her friend suddenly sported.

  
"You are dismissed, my sworn shield. Go join my brother again with your new foal."

  
The ex-Steward gladly moved towards the door.

  
"Your nephew Lord Amrothos, Steward of Gondor, will come in the name of King Elessar."

  
"That makes me very happy to hear." Faramir smiled back.

 

* * *

 

  
Éowyn and Arwen did find a solution. On the insistence of both women, Aragorn had started an investigation and soon many terrible matters concerning Lord Harnon saw the light. The man had abused many other young boys and only left his own sons alone.

  
His Queen told him about Faramir's past with Lord Harnon in the deep dark of night and that decided the matter. The Lord was disgraced and lost his right to any titles or lands. Effectively making his eldest the new Lord of South Gondor. His children did not regret their father's disgrace because they had known and never done anything about the dishonor the ex-Lord had brought to their House. They banished him from their homes and worked harder than before to erase the dirty stain of their history. Leaving the old man bitterly roaming Middle-Earth.

  
Aragorn sighed when he watched his sleeping son from the door opening. His little boy had just turned eight months when a cool hand clasped his.

  
"I cannot imagine a man doing such a thing. A young and innocent boy." the King shook his head and ruefully watched the easy and carefree breathing of his heir.

  
"We cannot absolve all Evil in this world, my love. What we can do, is try to make the right decision when something like this happened."

  
"I did not want to hang the man. Have I done right in this, Arwen?" he continued in Elfish.

  
"Only future will tell. Amin mela lle Aragorn."

  
He softly kissed his beautiful wife and together they gazed upon their child.

 

* * *

 

  
"Are you still angry?" the Ranger sighed.

  
"It's too soon."

  
"They have been engaged almost a year now."

  
Éomer huffed. "And now my little sister is having her wedding night. I swear if Brama does so much as hurt her..."

  
"You won't. And you know why? He makes her so happy. We all respect Bramastor and he has done his very best to make everything run his course as smoothly as possible. The political liaison shall never be broken again, they've sent tons of their own grain to make up for our bad harvest and you know full well he has befriended everyone."

 

"I know. It's just..."

  
"Really hard to see her married? Starting a family?"

  
Long silence.

  
"Faramir, do you ever want children?"

  
"No, not really. Do not be mistaken, I adore children, though I've never seen me having my own. What about you?"

  
"Hmm, me neither. Always appreciated the male form more. Still..."

  
"Once your little nephews and nieces are born you'll have your hands full soon enough."

  
"Not too soon. I hope." the Prince replied with an angry glower at the closed door to the Royal Suite.

  
"Will you go away from the door now? The Queen will not appreciate her brother sitting here out all night like a lapdog."

  
"No. What if he hurts her?" and the horse master resolutely returned his grumpy frown to the hard wood in front of him.

  
"Interested in a late night swim? Summer is already back in the air."

  
"Another summer... I can't believe it's been more than two years already."

  
Faramir hummed in agreement and then answered "I'll be out swimming." and left the musing Marshall behind.

  
"Oh and Éomer?"

  
The blond looked up at his departing love.

  
"I shall be doing that completely naked."

  
The Captain did get to swim that night. After he had been carried all the way to the stream, stripped in reverence by his horse man and dipped the water in.

  
The fresh waves engulfed their chests shuddering with deep breaths.

  
"Faramir." Éomer whispered awestruck.

  
"Wrap your legs around me." the Ranger instructed. For once able to carry the bigger weight of the blond.

  
After doing that the two men gasped loudly. Their heated flesh aligning and deliciously rubbing together. Soon the kissing turned feral with loud groans and whimpers.

  
"Let me distract you with other matters."

  
A loud moan was the only reply the Gondorian received.

  
Hands. First wandering, sometimes clutching from need and then caressing again. Worshipping.  
Until Captain and Marshall raced towards completion and shouted their pleasure out into the dark.

 

* * *

 

  
With a warning look from Faramir Éomer bit down on his tongue from commenting on the radiant appearance of the newly married couple the following evening at the table in the Great Hall.

  
Furiously he looked down at his plate trying, though miserably failing, not to think about his sister coupling with her husband the last twelve hours straight. Admittedly he felt a little bit envious and dared to throw a small glance at his own love interest. Faramir had yet to say he loved him and it was starting to wear on the horse lord. Making him frustrated and insecure even though they had been slowly progressing towards a more physical relation. Now he only needed the emotional confirmation.

  
"Now. Are you happy she does not appear to seem hurt?" Faramir mumbled under his breath.

  
"Aye." the Prince grunted in reply.

  
"Your sister told me we had nothing to fear. Brama had assured her of his previous experience and it made her feel completely at ease." the Ranger smiled consolingly.

  
"Previous experience?" Éomer stammered out in horror. Suddenly staring at the black man in another light.

  
"He slept with my sister after bedding others!" he hissed furiously.

  
"Yes. Does it matter?" the ex-Steward peevishly answered.

  
"Of course it matters! How could he! This puts all matters into a different perspective!" the taller man then angrily snapped whilst trying to stare daggers into the man sitting next to the Queens throne.

  
"It most certainly does!" Faramir bit back, pushed back his plate and violently stomped away.

  
Éomer realized his mistake too late.

 

* * *

 

  
Everyone knew the Prince was not a man of many words nor did he openly involve others into his private affairs. Nevertheless it only took two days for the people around the Marshall to notice the fall out between him and the Gondorian.

  
It took Éowyn much longer, still she had a good reason not to notice any sooner being all newlywed and such.

  
It seemed like the world had everything against him. Everyone, rightly assumed, Éomer must have done or said something wrong and it seemed as if all his friends wanted to rub his face into the matter.

  
Firstly starting with walking in on Niësta and Elfhelm going at in the stables. Scarring his eyes forever.

  
Then Faramir's cousin Amrothos decided not to train together anymore in the courtyard. Instead he spent his time with his family in the archives. Leaving the horse master to fend for his own against another opponent.

  
When his sister called him in, he knew he was in for it. What he did not expect was the pitiful look sent his way when the blond entered her room.

  
"What happened?"

  
"I may or may not have implied I do not approve of 'relations' outside or before the marriage bed. That is. Other 'relations' with a person not to be your intended."

  
"And now Faramir is angry?"

  
"And now Faramir is angry." Éomer repeated with a sigh.

  
"You're an idiot."

  
"I am."

  
"Try to communicate with him. Tell him of your regret of the hastily spoken and not well thought through words."

  
"I am trying but he dodges every attempt I make!"

  
"Then try harder!"

 

* * *

 

  
"Good morning Faramir, do you want to..."

  
A sniff and the copper haired man had turned his back.

 

* * *

 

  
"The foal is wondering when...."

  
Furious scribbling ensued effectively blocking out whatever other words Éomer might have tried to say.

 

* * *

 

  
"I love you."

That earned him a glare.

 

* * *

 

  
"Now who's being childish!"

 

* * *

 

  
"Please, I miss you."

  
Those softly spoken words almost broke Faramir's resolve but it were not the words he needed to hear.

 

* * *

 

  
"I'm going to be an uncle. Éowyn's expecting."

  
The Marshall had hoped that would bring a word of congratulations, still his schemes had no effect.

 

* * *

 

  
Two weeks had passed since Faramir had said his goodbyes with Amrothos. He felt torn. One side of him was gleeful and happy and his eyes were like hawks roving over the not yet expanding belly of the Queen's belly. The other side was unhappy and tearful when Éomer proved once again not to say the right thing.

  
The Ranger sadly watched the frowning man training their foal all alone. It had been a while since anyone had seen the blond smile.

  
Was the Gondorian rightful in his silence?

 

* * *

 

  
"Sorry." the soft whisper sounded.

  
Faramir turned his head and saw Éomer standing there in the dark. Eyes red rimmed from tiredness and maybe even from tears.

  
"So sorry." he choked and fell on his knees besides the chair the Ranger was sitting on.

  
"Was it that hard to say?" the Captain asked after almost two months of silence.

  
"You are cruel."

  
"So were you."

  
"I know." another whisper.

  
Faramir leaned forward and let his lips ghost over the forehead of the kneeling man. The Marshall gasped shuddering. Reeling from the feelings rushing through his body.

  
"I did not mean it. Not in that way."

  
"I know."

  
Silence.

  
"Let's go to bed."

  
Éomer's eyes lit hopefully.

  
"Yes. Together." the ex-Steward answered the silent question in the brown eyes.

  
Never before had he seen such a beatific smile.

 

* * *

 

  
Niësta just left the warm embrace from Elfhelm when she ran into a happily humming Marshall. They started an easy conversation and soon Éomer had her laughing out loud with a funny anecdote from Elfhelm and him when they were younger. She patted his arm and then saw some leaves hanging in the Prince's hair.

  
"There seem to be some leaves hanging in your hair." the Rhûn smiled and gestured towards the offending pieces of shrubbery.

  
The horse master tried brushing it out at the back of his head but they only crumbled and worsened the tangle in his long hair. Rohan tradition had most men wearing theirs as such though sometimes Éomer cursed the upkeep it sometimes needed.

  
"Here Let me?" Niësta smiled at the floundering attempts of the blond. He nodded and she gently combed her fingers through the long strands.

  
"There!" she said and patted the slightly leaning forward man on the head.

  
"Thank you, my Lady."

  
The dark skinned woman grinned back and left the man to the rest of his afternoon ablutions.

  
"Faramir." Éomer brightly smiled when he noticed his love standing a couple of steps further down the hall.

  
"Done in the archives?" the oblivious man nodded towards the scrolls in the Rangers arms.  
The Captain sourly glanced down to what he was holding.

  
By then the Prince noticed the negative emotions coming from the sworn shield and voiced his worries. "Something the matter?"

  
"Lady Niësta. Do you... Desire her?"

  
Whatever response Faramir had been hoping for, it was not the booming laughter coming from the taller man.

  
"Niësta?" he nearly bowed double with mirth.

  
The ex-Steward bitterly looked away. Feeling ridiculous at being laughed at. Éomer fell silent.

  
"You are jealous." It was not a question.

  
The other man shrugged already planning a way out of this conversation.

  
"That's wonderful." The blond then smirked.

  
Faramir turned and entered the archives again. Dropping the rolls on a desk and hid between shelves. Unluckily for him, the horse master wouldn't let it go that easily and followed him inside. Closing the door behind him and granting them privacy.

  
"Do not understand me wrong. I have no wish to make you jealous, however I must admit I like seeing this green look on you for once. Almost thought you did not care for me enough to feel such a way."

  
"There is a difference between jealous and possessive." the Ranger finally replied using the Marshall's own words from more than a year ago.

  
"And are you?"

  
"What?" Faramir snapped.

  
"Possessive. Of me?"

  
The Prince did not dare to blink in fear of missing a minute change in the ex-Stewards posture. The smaller man seemed to be trembling with anger and indecision.

  
The Gondorian angrily stalked closer to the blond and gave him a push in the chest. The push sent Éomer backwards and made him lean against the shelves full of dusty old tomes and scrolls.  
"This is no joking matter."

  
"Answer me." the Marshall demanded. He felt that the anger was rapidly changing into an air of arousal. He already felt himself rise to the occasion and Faramir, standing so closely, noticed it too.

  
"You like me pushing you around." the Ranger remarked making Éomer hard as iron in the flash of an instant. That too, got noticed. Faramir's nostrils flared in sudden hunger for the man in front of him.

  
"Then you will definitely like me saying this." the Captain said and leaned up on the tips of his toes. Placed his mouth against the warm ear under the long blond hair and whispered provocatively.  
"You are mine."

  
The Prince, in reply, clutched the shelves. Making parchments drop on the floor and he groaned loudly. Completely intoxicated by the Gondorian in front of him taking charge.

  
"Let me show you something that proves you are mine. Something nobody else will ever do for you and you can only get from me."

  
And he dropped to his knees. Eyes level with the tenting breeches in front of him and he aptly opened them before the Marshall could say or do anything.

  
"Fara.. Oh! Fuck!" when a warm and wet mouth mouthed over the underside of his straining cock. Without really meaning to he grabbed the copper blond hair in front of him and pushed his hips gently forward.

  
"This is..." he tried choking out when he cried out loudly. The Ranger had taken the tip of his flushed member in his mouth and started to softly suck on it.

  
Éomer started sweating profusely. The rush of feelings made him dizzy and more rolls fell next to the Captain providing him a most generous service.

  
Faramir let go of the wetted tip with a filthy slurp making the horse master's eyes roll up.  
"Tell me. Tell me, Éomer!" and downed the cock in one go.

  
"SHITE! OH GOD!" got torn from the Marshall's throat.

  
The Captain expertly swirled his tongue around the head and nearly inhaled his lover's member. Nose touching pubes he hummed around the cock clogging his throat.

  
"I'M YOURS! YOURS! FARAMIR! I... I...!" the blond yelled in warning.

  
With a deafening roar and splintering of the tightly gripped shelves Éomer came hard. Grunting at being milked by the man on his knees. When sight returned to his eyes he felt that his cheeks were wet and he looked down staring down with amazement at Faramir.

  
"You..." he hoarsely tried saying in disbelief at what just had happened. The Ranger would have smirked down his nose hadn't he been sitting down. Instead he held Éomer's gaze and slowly swallowed what he had been keeping until that time in his mouth.

  
The Prince moaned gutturally and noticed his member filling up again at the depraved scene he had just witnessed.

  
"You'll. Be. The. Death. Of me." he could finally rasp out. Already feeling ready for another round and he closed his eyes. Trying to keep out the onslaught of feelings of the Ranger holding so much power over the horse master's body.

  
"I love you." Éomer then whispered and felt that Faramir was closing up his breeches again. The hand touching his stiffness made the Prince gasp out loud. And he felt very dissatisfied when it gently got tucked away underneath the restricting cloth.

  
Faramir stood up, softly kissed him and shared a small part of his own taste when he drew away. With a long dark look he picked up the rolls again and left the archives.

  
The blond thumped his head back against the ruined shelves and clutched his heart.  
"The death of me Faramir." he repeated lowly.

 

* * *

 

  
Éowyn groaned loudly and clutched her stomach.

  
In a flash three men were pulling her chair back and taking stock of what they could see. Swamping her witch questions.

  
"It's too early!" a panicked Brama said.

  
"What's wrong? Has your water broken? Can I get you something?" her sworn shield immediately reached to clasp her hand.

  
"I'll call the midwife!" her brother shouted.

  
"It's fine! STOP! The babe's only kicking my stomach!" the Queen laughed amusedly and then clutched her wide belly again with a groan.

  
"That's a Rohirrim, all right." she moaned after another strong movement.

  
Éomer beamed proudly and watched how his brother-in-law lay his hand on his dear wife's belly.  
"I can feel her kicking." Brama grinned.

  
"Or a him, love." Éowyn smiled back and they shared a soft kiss while feeling the fluttering inside her.

  
"Here." she then said and grabbed with one hand her brothers bigger one and with her other hand clasped Faramir's. Both men startled when their hands touched to widely expanded belly and then moved closer in wonder at the life beneath their hands.

  
"Amazing." the Ranger whispered with open mouth.

  
"Have you thought of a name yet?" Éomer asked his brother. Brama looked back at Éowyn to give her the honor of answering.

  
"We don't know yet what name for a boy. But if it's a girl we decided on... Théodora."  
That made the Marshall freeze. With wide eyes he dropped on his knees next to his sister's chair.

  
"That name... Would be perfect for a little Princess." he breathed out and reverently kissed the belly above the protruding bellybutton.

  
"Hello, youngling." Éomer grinned "I'm your uncle. I'll teach you everything I know and protect you until my death." and softly rubbed the stomach.

  
Éowyn sighed gratefully "She or he likes your voice and decided to go back to sleep again." and she shared another knowing smile with her husband. No doubt remembering all the talking they both had done in a never-ending monologue with the babe at night.

  
The Prince suddenly realized his position and reddened. Faramir smirked when he saw his lover realizing that he completely had forgotten his manners or surroundings.

  
"Yes. Well." the blond tried finding back his composure "I won't spoil your babe. Doesn't make good heirs." and stomped off. Trying to hide his slighted feeling of emasculation. And secretly felt glad for it.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer was looking his horse equipment and Firefoot over again when a warm body plastered itself against his back. Recognizing the man holding him, the Marshall easily melted into the form of the Ranger holding him by the hips and smiled in front of him.

  
"Come to say goodbye?"

  
"Aye." Faramir kissed the back of his neck.

  
The blond turned around and gingerly kissed the smaller man in front of him mindless of the men around them who were also readying themselves for the upcoming trip.

  
The Captain already felt something poking him in the belly and lifted his eyebrow inquisitively.  
"Already? You're insatiable." Faramir shook his head in disbelief making Éomer grin.  
"I am the monster of your own creation, my love."

  
The Gondorian choked on his spit when he heard the endearment and turned pale. The horse lord took a step back and frowned at the response he had received.

  
"Éomer."

  
"Let's not mention it again, all right." he grunted.

  
"I... I don't mind." the sworn shield whispered making the blond spin so fast on his feet that he saw black spots.

  
"You don't? Are you certain?"

  
"Ye.. Yes. I have been thinking about... This. And you must know that... What I feel is... Terribly close to being... As you well know... Maybe even similar as to what you, if that is what you were thinking, close to... That." Faramir concluded.

  
"I have absolutely no idea what you just spoke off." but the Prince knew full well what his love had tried to say for the first time ever.

  
"I'm trying!" the Ranger replied frustrated.

  
"I know. You can practice. I'll be back in a week after the regular border control."

  
"Aye. I wish I could join you again."

  
Éomer smiled regretfully. "Yes, well. Someone needs to keep an eye out for Éowyn now Bramastor is taking his short trip to Rhûn. And I only trust you with that matter."

  
"I won't disappoint you. I'll be guarding her all the time."

  
"I know." the Marshall smiled.

  
"I'll gift you with one kiss before you leave."

  
It was one very long lingering kiss making even the rudest people blush.

 

* * *

 

  
"I feel like I am about to explode any moment now." the White Lady huffed while waddling up the stairs.

  
"You insisted on greeting all the guards today in person." Faramir wryly replied and worriedly eyed the waddling form hanging onto his arm for dear life.

  
"I owe it to my people. I always greet them on the last Saturday of the month when they have to work harder with the ongoing market today."

  
"I know. Truly admirable, though try not to strain yourself even more. I don't want this child popping out on top of the guard tower. And I shall not be carrying you." the Ranger tried to joke.

  
"Are you telling me I am grotesque?" the woman turned to her sworn shield with a trembling pout and tears in her eyes.

  
"What? No! Oh no! No! You are beautiful, my Queen." crisis and ensuing drama scene with the overly hormonal woman deftly averted.

  
Faramir gently let out the breath he had been holding in panic and when he noticed his friend had calmed down they resumed their slow steps down the stairs.

  
He could not shake the feeling of a weird prickling feeling in his neck when they crossed the courtyard through the market stands. Shrugging it off he resumed performing his duties.

 

* * *

 

  
"Prince Bramastor is delayed two days." the messenger said "There was a flood and he remained to help the people of Emnetoras on his way here and sent me forward to deliver this message."

  
Éowyn sighed and rubbed her aching stomach. Normally very grateful for her helpful husband but now she just wished he was here already.

  
Éothain, who had remained too, gently slid her little foot stool closer so she could lift her swollen feet. Gratefully she smiled back at his comfort.

 

* * *

 

  
Faramir had been feeling strange these last day. All the time it was as if eyes were following him and when he looked up there was nothing to see.

  
He was distracted with the last remaining market stands being cleaned out when he heard a distressed shout. "My Lady!" Éothain shouted.

  
The Queen had come down to see if her husband had already arrived for he was expected any moment now when she stumbled and clutched her stomach. In horror she looked up and the Ranger was beside her in the blink of an eye. Éothain too caught up with the frustrated woman and held her up by the arm.

  
"I think..." she panted out "I might have overdone it a bit."

  
"You think!" Faramir, for once not caring how belittling he sounded, cried out.

  
"No time to scold me, Faramir!" Éowyn snapped "My water has broken. I can't do this." she groaned at feeling the first contraction.

  
"Yes! You can and you will. You're a bloody Queen!" the Gondorian yelled and tore of his cloak, baring his white shirt to the grey heaven, and put it around the lady in labor.

  
"Get the midwife!" Éothain shouted at a maid who hurriedly scuttled off.

  
"Can you carry her inside?" the Captain asked the bigger man.

  
"Aye. Though I'll still need someone to... FARAMIR!" Éothain cut off his sentence.

  
With a swirl the ex-Steward turned around and met a pair of eyes he never ever wanted to have seen again.

  
"You!" Faramir whispered.

  
"Yes. _Me_." Lord Harnon sneered. Both men looked at each other for a second and then their gazes slid downwards.

  
Where a knife had slide into Faramir's chest as if it were just mere butter to part for a blade.

  
"Faramir!" Éowyn moaned.

  
And the Ranger stumbled back taking the knife with him. Protruding grotesquely from his chest. Redness was painting the sides of the blade and he just stared at it in disbelief. With another step he stumbled and fell down.

  
The whole world turned and he gazed at the even more darkening clouds.  
Shouts, yells and blades sounded in the distance. When a frightened face hung above his.  
The Captain of Gondor could not see clearly anymore and smiled dumbly in front of him.

  
"Éomer." he breathed at seeing blond long hair. Then everything became black.

 

* * *

 

  
"Lord Éomer of the Mark! Halt your proceedings!" a loud voice boomed.

  
With a blow on the horn the Rohirrim turned around and rode towards the man distracting them from their patrol.

  
"What business do you have, messenger?" the Prince asked.

  
"The Queen is in labor!" the young man replied making all the men on their horses shift in trepidation and worry.

  
"And..." the man tried to say.

  
"And what, man! Speak up! Am I needed home? Is my sister all right?"

  
"My Prince!" the messenger choked out crying freely now "Lord Faramir has been stabbed and is dying."

  
Complete silence. Éomer did not realize he was sliding sideways off Firefoot when Elfhelm gripped his shoulder to steady him.

  
"No." the horse lord breathed disbelievingly drawing in as much comfort as possible from the strong hand still holding him.

  
"Faramir." he whispered, turned his horse and broke the formation for the first time in the history of the Rohirrim.

 

* * *

 

  
"My sister?" Éomer snapped when he strode in the Great Hall. Never halting his steps towards his chambers.

  
"Still in labor and confined in her rooms with the midwife. Prince Bramastor has just arrived and it with her." Éothain answered. His hands were bloodied from when he had carried the mortally wounded Ranger inside.

  
"And Faramir?"

  
"The healer is with him now."

  
The Marshall threw open the door to his chamber.

  
"Where is he." he hissed dangerously.

  
"In his room, my Prince." Never before had they seen their lord so deadly calm and pale.

  
"This is his room!"

  
"We... We did not know he shared your chamber!"

  
"The assassinator?"

  
"Behind locked bars."

  
The men had arrived in front of the Captain's old quarters and with a deep breath the Marshall pushed open the door. Revealing the healer conversing in hushed tones with his assistant by the bed of a deadly pale Faramir.

  
Chest barely moving and a soft gargling noise reached the blonds' ears.

  
"My Prince!" the healer said in surprise and strode over to pull the taller man to the side.

  
"His status?" Éomer asked in a low voice, never letting his eyes stray from the resting man on the bed. He seemed so small and frail on the wide white expanse of blankets.

  
"We dared not to make a decision yet without your input, my Lord."

  
"His status?" the horse lord growled, becoming less patient with every ticking second.

  
"We cannot treat him. He remains barely alive with the knife inside him. The moment we pull it out his lungs will fill with blood and he will choke slowly. Painfully."

  
Éomer turned to the cowering man before him. His eyes full of grief and terror.  
"You can't?" he choked.

  
"My deepest condolences, my Lord." the healer choked out. Tears filling his eyes for he could not bear to see his Marshall and his beloved in so much pain. All had come to love them tremendously.

  
"The knife will give you time to say what you have to say before..." and he trailed off.  
Éothain grasped his friends elbow. Afraid that he might collapse any moment now, but Éomer shook him off and walked to the side of the bed. A chair had been put there and he sat down hard. Defeat slumping his back and pull in his shoulders. Trying to protect him from the reality and failing.

  
The brown eyes could not leave the heft sticking out of his lovers chest and his gaze softened. Realizing this might be the last moment they had and reached out to claps the smaller and white hand.

  
"I..."

  
The Prince's eyes immediately flew to the Rangers face when he slowly opened his eyes and tried to say something.

  
"...didn't disappoint you." the wounded man wheezed, referring at his promise from almost a week ago.

  
"I knew you wouldn't." Éomer smiled through the sudden tears filling his eyes.  
Not knowing what to say next, the horse master asked "How are you feeling?"

  
"Wouldn't... Recommend this." Faramir grunted painfully and continued his speech.

  
"Éomer, in the... Event...That I don't survive." he groaned. "I need to tell you..."

  
"Don't." the horse lord interrupted "You cannot die."

  
"In my experience... Most men die from a knife... In the chest." Faramir dryly shot back.

  
"Éomer..."

  
"Don't!"

  
The Gondorian gave his lover a look full of pity.

  
"I don't want to leave you... Thought it looks like... I'm not deciding here." and looked towards the heft piercing his lung. Little bubbles of blood formed in his mouth corner.

  
"Bloody well right you cannot leave me. I have no need for an empty place besides me not even for decorative reasons."

  
"Éomer... You need to hear this."

  
"No!" the blond wailed. Éothain turned away his face and saw that the healer and his assistant too were watching the painful scene whilst trying to keep their tears under control.

  
"Damn you! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! Not like this, Faramir!"

  
The Ranger stilled on the bed. Weighing his words and last strength.

  
"You need to let me go." he then whispered. Silently asking his lover to end his suffering.  
Bramastor appeared in the door before the Marshall could answer and delicately cleared his throat.

  
"Queen and child are doing well and are resting. It's a healthy boy. A king for Rohan." he tried to smile. The happy occasion overshadowed by the enfolding drama. The men wanted to be happy, though they couldn't. Éomer's mind was spinning with the information.

  
"Éowyn wanted to know how you were doing. I kept her in the dark during her labor. What can I tell her?"

  
Faramir opened his mouth to truthfully answer the dark man when the Prince interrupted.

  
" _King_." he stated. "Don't tell her anything." and he kissed the man on the bed softly, swiftly stood up and righted himself in front of Éothain and the healer.

  
"Nobody removes the knife. The person who does touch it..." he growled "I will skin alive. I swear."

  
"Éomer." the sworn shield sighed.

  
"I shall return as soon as possible." and with one long look left the room.

  
He ran outside the Castle and whistled loudly for his horse.

  
Without looking back he left for Gondor.

 

* * *

 

  
"My King!" a frightened servant burst inside the Hall, disrupting the meeting of the Counsel of Minas Tirith and King Elessar looked up.

  
"I could not halt him, he..!" the man tried to say but the great doors already slammed open.

  
"Lord Éomer!" Aragorn exclaimed in surprise. Arwen waved the Counsel discreetly as a sign to make them leave and only Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas remained.

  
The horse lord glanced shortly at the others and directed his gaze back to the man on the throne.  
When he came in front of the King of Gondor he fell on his knees. Exhausted beyond belief after riding for less than two days straight.

  
"My Lord. Faramir is mortally wounded." he rasped out. Throat dry from lack of water and food. Sand still filling his mouth from all the riding he has done.

  
"What happened?" Elessar demanded as an explanation and the others came closer in worry and confusion.

  
"Lord Harnon of Gondor stabbed him. He can die any moment now. You need to come with me."

  
"Lord Harnon? I beg your pardon?" and Ranger looked at his wife in regret.

  
"You must come with me and use Athelas on the wound. It's our only hope now."

  
"I cannot just leave my throne and ride for Edoras. Any man could ask this of me and I cannot answer all their claims."

  
"You bloody well can answer the claim of this one man! You owe it to him! He's not any man!" Éomer yelled.

  
"This man!" he continued and pointed behind him as if he could point out Faramir all the way from the White City "Has fought his ENTIRE life! When you were sitting on your arse in Rivendell, he was already fighting against the forces of evil! When you could not take on your rightful claim, HE..." and forcefully waved his arm back again "Did EVERYTHING he could to honor his duties! Even going as far as nearly destroying himself! You cannot let him die! I have given so much to the cause! My nephew, my beloved uncle, my men and thrown myself into battle besides you! I risked everything! Gave away my claim to the throne of Rohan to live a life free so I would not have to make the hardest decisions! Well, try to imagine my surprise when the healer told me that I could either let Faramir die quickly by pulling the knife out of his chest or let him suffer and die slowly! I'm here now! And the knife's still choking him to death!"

  
"You forget your place, horse master." Gimli growled.

  
"Shut up!" the Marshall shouted and looked towards Gandalf.

  
"Even you! You knew something was the matter while teaching him as a young boy! Have you ever tried to save him from his father before he almost got burned alive? He was being raped and tortured repeatedly and yet you did nothing! You all claim to be the heads of a new era! Why won't you save him?" and turned back to King Elessar.

  
"Lord Harnon should never have left Gondor alive. Yet he did so and you know who is to blame."  
Aragorn looked down sourly at realizing he always knew his benevolent decision for that man could have ended badly. And it has.

  
The ringing silence filled the throne room and all hope was lost for the man prostrating himself on the floor.

  
"Please." he whispered. The proud man brought to his knees, crazed with fear and pain.  
A soft hand touched the top of his head.

  
" _Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa_ " Lady Evenstar said, she hadn't made a sound while approaching the horse master " _Uuma dela._  We shall help you." and that easily decided what would happen now.

  
"Gimli you stay here with my Queen and look after Elboron. Lady Arwen shall rule in my stead. And we will make haste. Legolas, grab my healer gear and meet me at the Great Gate in disguise in half an hour. Gandalf?" and King Elessar turned to the White Wizard inquisitively.  
Mithrandir stroked his beard thoughtfully and looked down at the hopeful figure of the Marshall.

  
"I believe.... I have to pay for my past sins. Faramir deserves to live and I shall endeavor to help to make it so."

 

* * *

 

  
Four days after Éomer had left Edoras in a great hurry, four men rode through the gates and got welcomed by shocked faces. The people bowed after their initial surprise at seeing the King of Gondor and their Prince entering the Courtyard together and with big steps all four of them raced inside only to be halted by a pale Éowyn.

  
"My Queen." Gandalf, Legolas and King Elessar said and bowed low. The White Lady curtsied and looked with questions in her eyes at her brother. Sweat and dirt covered his whole body. Nor did he smell any better than he looked.

  
"I am glad to welcome you here, though I had hoped the circumstances would be different." she nodded towards the men after her brother did not say anything.

  
"Yes. I believe we must make haste. Congratulations on the heir." Aragorn said while they followed the Queen inside. Bramastor appeared with a white bundle in his arms and that halted the proceedings for a short moment. The men made their introductions and Éomer stared at the innocent little boy wrapped in the white blanket.

  
"Do you wish to hold your nephew?" Prince Brama asked and with a slow nod from the blond he surrendered the bundle.

  
"My friend." Gandalf said and the confounded Marshall "You rest and wash up. We shall be treat your beloved."

  
Éomer felt divided. He wanted to be there with Faramir but he could not let go of the little Princling in his arms and with a big shudder he sat down and held the babe close.  
Éowyn kneeled down besides her dear brother and held him while he held her son. Brama led the other men away to see to the Ranger.

  
"My sweet brother. You have pushed yourself beyond any line you've ever had." and she held him. Whispered sweet nothings while he cradled the child and cried his heart out. Great sobs and shudders wracked his body and all he could do was weep.

 

* * *

 

  
Hours passed and the Marshall had cleaned up, eaten a light meal and drunk many cups with fresh water. He caught a couple of hours sleep when Brama woke him.

  
"Éowyn's nursing, I came to tell you that your friends are done with Faramir."

  
Éomer blinked the sleep out of his eyes and grunted in gratitude at his brother-in-law. Soon he hovered before the door to his own chamber. Éothain had made sure they transferred Faramir into their own bed once the Marshall had left.

  
The Queen joined him in the hallway and together they stared at the door.

  
"I did not know until two days ago that you and Faramir shared a chamber."

  
"Aye. We've done so for more than a year now."

  
"How inappropriate brother." his sister tried teasing him. Her only reply was an almost curl of his mouth corner. Too preoccupied with the men still inside when the door abruptly opened.  
Legolas stepped outside and gestured that brother and sister should enter.

  
They did so and saw Gandalf resting at the window while Aragorn was cleaning his hands.  
With great reluctance Éomer glanced at his lover, afraid of what he'd see, and he took in a deep breath when he saw that the knife had gone.

  
"Did it... Work?" he rasped at King Elessar.

  
"We shall know so if his fever breaks." and Aragorn stood up to give Éomer the place besides the bed.

  
"Mithrandir kept the blood from flowing to freely when Legolas took out the blade and disinfected the wound with Elfish magic. I immediately applied Athelas after that and we noticed the wound closing up fast. There is no infection on the wound but the blood loss and strain on his body has left your Captain unconscious and with a high fever."

  
"Thank you." Éomer said from the deep of his heart.

  
"Always, my friend." and the King clasped the blonds' shoulder and left the room to wash up and get something to eat.

  
"You've done the near impossible, my brother." Éowyn softly said when the other had left the room too.

  
"Now all we can do is wait."

  
So they did.

 

* * *

 

  
Another week went by and still Faramir remained comatose.

  
"There is nothing more we can do." Aragorn said with regret and with heartfelt goodbyes they took their leave to return to Gondor.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer straightened out the books all strewn about their chamber. It was a bad habit of Faramir that the Marshall found irritating. He promised himself that he would never again complain about the amount of books clogging up his belongings.

  
The last book the Ranger had been reading was still laying on the bedside table next to his little horse figurine.

  
The Prince, not much of a reader himself, picked it up where it was bookmarked and with a soft rumbling voice he continued to read it out loud.

 

* * *

 

  
The blond man was napping in a chair, with his head hanging back that would surely leave his neck with a crick when a loud gasp permeated his own soft snoring and his head snapped back up.  
He groaned at the cramping in his neck and looked at the source of the sound.  
Faramir was gasping loudly. The slender body shook on the bed and then he opened his eyes.

  
"Faramir!"

  
The Ranger looked around in surprise not immediately seeing nor recognizing anything.  
Éomer brought a cup of water to his mouth and the Captain drunk it down greedily when vision returned.

  
"My love?" the horse lord asked when the Gondorian calmed down.

  
"Only you..." Faramir groaned "Could bring me back from the brink of death."

  
"I..."

  
"As to leave me with a chance to scold you... For ever leaving my side."

  
"I went to Gondor to get Aragorn and Mithrandir."

  
"I know. I realized what you would do once you left me behind. You risked anything for one last chance of saving me."

  
"Aye. I'm sorry. I had to try."

  
"Seeing." a cough interrupted "As I'm still alive. I will leave the scolding for another time."

  
"I thank thee." Éomer smiled at his Ranger's wit.

  
"You are an idiot."

  
That left the Prince gaping in indignation.

  
"And I love you." Faramir continued and held the blonds' gaze. "I should have said it sooner. I love you. I almost fell face flat the first time I saw you because I already loved you then." the ex-Steward smiled.

  
"Your sister told me about you in the House of Healing and I dreamt about you. Of how you would look. And reality was nothing to what I had ever imagined."

  
Éomer buried his face in the hand he was holding. Peppering it with kisses. Tears slipped between their fingers.

  
"I need to tell you this now. I love you. I love you. I never thought myself capable of any love until you taught me how to do it. You gave my life reason again, Éomer. And I never want to spend another second apart. I love you."

  
The horse lord grinned euphorically through his tears.

  
"I am starting to get the notion." he smiled.

  
"Good. I hate repeating myself." Faramir chuckled softly. "You beautiful wonderful man."

  
"That does sound like someone I might know."

 

* * *

 

  
"Brother, it's the middle of the night." Éowyn said when Brama opened the door and revealed the couple in their night dresses.

  
"Faramir is awake and recovering." he smiled in apology.

  
"We shall be there shortly." the dark skinned man said with a nod and closed the door.  
Minutes later the couple entered the room of the two men with their child resting peacefully in their arms.

  
"I am so glad to see you again, my friend." Brama said.

  
"Say, hello to our son." Éowyn said and gave the child to the Ranger. Together with the support of Éomer he weakly held the child up for inspection.

  
"He's gorgeous. Congratulations you both. I'm sorry I was not present during his birth." Faramir ruefully smiled.

  
"Have you decided on a name yet, sister?"

  
Brama clasped the hand of his wife and together they looked at the couple by the bed. Looking mesmerized at their son.

  
"Meet your godson, Faramir, by the name of Barahir." the White Lady then said.  
The Captain choked on his surprise.

  
"Words cannot express... The honor.. I gladly... Little Barahir." he trailed off and looked back down at the bundle of joy.

  
"Thank you. Very much, Éowyn. Brama. Thank you."

 

* * *

 

  
"So, my sister decided to name the heir of Rohan after you and your brother." Éomer  noted.

  
"Are you jealous?"

  
"No. Certainly not in this matter. You are the most honorable and courageous man I've met. And if your brother resembles you only for a tiny bit, it would still be a perfect name."

  
Faramir smiled.

  
"I saw my brother. When I thought I was dead. I dreamt. And I saw him. He told me: 'Be strong, little brother. Your suffering is almost over and know that I love you. You have made me so proud. You are needed by someone else and I shall wait until you join me when the time is right.' I asked him if he meant you and he answered that he approved of the man I gave my heart to. It seemed only seconds later when I awoke and saw you. And the first thing I thought was that I needed to say how much I love you."

  
"As I love you."

  
They kissed and carefully arranged themselves together in the bed. Minding the still mending wound and frailty of the Captain they closed their eyes. Finally able to rest.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer  was arranging a plate with food for Faramir at breakfast when Eothain walked up to him to bring him the news.

  
"Lord Harnon has committed suicide when he heard that the Captain had survived. He hung himself in his cell with his belt."

  
The Marshall nodded thoughtfully.

  
"I'll tell Faramir. Thank you."

  
So he told the man not ten minutes later and was surprised by the sad look.

  
"You did not wish him dead?" the Prince asked in disbelief.

  
"I wished so for many years. Now... I don't know. It would have happened anyway, wouldn't it?"

  
"Aye. I would have killed him one day when he received his punishment."

  
"Then I am glad he committed suicide. I do not wish for you to have any more unnecessary blood on your hands."

  
"Let's not fret any more about this matter and rejoice with the now that we have."

  
"Agreed. Are you eating that apple?"

  
"You always steal the food on my plate." Éomer grumbled but gave up his apple anyway for the greater good.

  
"You love me anyway."

  
A grunt was his only reply.

 

* * *

 

  
A soft whimper woke a slumbering Faramir. The sunlight was already peeking through the curtains and it gave a warm and romantic touch to the room.

  
His recovery had taken weeks and he still could not move around that much. Although this was better than the alternative. Namely being dead.

  
Éomer had been very patient during this difficult time and did not dare to stray too far from his beloved.

  
Another whimper had the ex-Steward turning towards his companion who immediately stilled and became very red in the face.

  
"What on earth are you doing?" the Gondorian grunted a little bit annoyed at being disturbed whilst sleeping.

  
The blond just stared back with wide open eyes in fear.

  
"I... I was... " he tried mumbling back feeling completely mortified.

  
The Ranger took in stock of the taller man next to him. Shamefaced, slightly sweaty beneath the messy long hair, keeping a respectful distance between them and hands under the covers.  
"Were you _touching_ yourself??"

  
Éomer dared not answer and closed his eyes in humiliation of being caught in the act.  
"Why would you do that while I am sleeping?" Faramir pretended to be angry but inwardly he felt very amused at the Prince's discomfort.

  
"The healer said no strenuous activities for you and I've never left your side again. I did not wish to presume... Nor did I want to bother you with my ridiculous needs..."

  
The horse lord sat up in the bed and pushed back the covers to leave the bed all the while hiding his angry looking member behind his pillow. He stood up and started looking for clothes not daring to look at the Ranger gazing upon his naked back in the bed.

  
"How long has it been?" the sworn shield gently asked.

  
"Think nothing of it. It is of no importance. You can do without this and so can I... I'll be training the foal which we still have to name if you remember." he tried to change the conversation.

  
"How long Éomer?" the question sounded a bit more irritated now. Faramir did not like repeating his question.

  
"Maybe three months. Or more. Perhaps less. I don't really remember." and immediately felt even more foolish at his behavior.

  
"Why are you hiding?"

  
"I am so sorry." Éomer rushed the words out "I tried to ignore it and focus on your needs while you were recovering. I didn't want to pressure you and the healer said... And it's very difficult not to touch you and maybe you needed more time after being traumatized at nearly dying."

  
"Then why..." Faramir interrupted "Do it alone rather than with me? And do it next to me while I was sleeping?"

  
"I may have been pointed out that I was getting more frustrated. Éowyn told me I had to stop snapping all the time and that I made Barahir feel uncomfortable with all the tension I was radiating. But it is because I am worried about you all the time when I'm not with you."

  
"That explains why you were doing it. Not why rather alone and not why next to me?"

  
"Like I said. I did not want to bother you with my inability to control my foolish libido."

  
"And why next to my unknowing self?"

  
"I tried to do one fast a couple of times earlier. Quickly. And it only got worse. I don't succeed without you so I... And tried not to disturb you." and he quickly looked away again. Silently cursing at his incompetence in finding fresh clothes and finally just settled for his breeches from yesterday.

  
Faramir guffawed until his chest hurt and he swept away the tears in the corners of his eyes.

  
"If you are done humiliating me any further, I can continue with my day's ablutions." Éomer grunted angrily.

  
"While sporting that?" The Ranger chuckled with a nod towards the enormous tenting in front of the Prince's breeches.

  
"It'll go away."

  
"Like it has been 'going away' these last three months?"

  
"Stop making fun of me." the Marshall pouted.

  
"Take off your pants and come back to bed, you idiot."

  
Éomer froze his actions and slowly turned back towards his love.

  
"Are you certain? I do not wish to do you any harm."

  
"Come here and see what I've planned. I'm not that breakable."

  
In the blink of an eye the blond man crawled back into the bed. Pressing his hot naked flesh into the smaller man beside him. He couldn't resist a shudder with desire and nuzzled his face into the throat before him.

  
Faramir turned around and let himself be spooned making Éomer stop his gentle administrations in confusion.

  
"What.." he started to say but the Ranger had already bunched up his night shirt, opened his legs, let the hard cock from the horse master slip between his thighs and closed his legs again.

  
"Oh." the Marshall said in a fog of sudden raw need and unconsciously started thrusting forward.  
"Oh." he gasped again at the amazing feeling.

  
"See. No straining me and you get want we both want." Faramir grinned in front of him.  
Éomer desperately tried not to rut roughly against his lover and gently took his time slipping his hardness forward and back again repeatedly. The wetness seeping out of his eager cock easing the movement. The tip of his flushed member poked the spot behind the Captain's stones and he tensed up.

  
"I'm sorry." The Prince said and immediately seized his actions and reluctantly tried to withdraw but the ex-Steward held him in his place.

  
"Don't apologize."

  
"You tensed?"

  
"Aye." and Faramir gripped the larger hand and brought in between his own legs effectively answering that question when it encountered another stiffness.

  
Éomer groaned and resumed his thrusting while lazily stroking his lover's member.  
"Yes. Just like that." the Ranger encouraged.

  
"I won't last lo.. ooh.. Oh... ooong!" the horse master shouted not expecting the sudden rush of his climax blinding him. He squeezed the cock in his hand while he kept rubbing his twitching member between the strong thighs.

  
His strokes erratic, Faramir helped him and closed his fist around the other hand holding him. They used the evidence of the blonds' rapture to ease the motions and it did not take long for the Gondorian to follow into nirvana.

  
"That was amazing." Éomer sighed happily.

  
"You are still an idiot. Never try to hide again from me."

  
The horse lord just smiled at the back of his neck in reply and buried the perfect man he was holding in kisses.

  
When Faramir came up for air a while later he said "Pânannestad!"

  
"What?"

  
"A name for our foal."

  
Éomer tried clearing his mind again.

  
"That's quite a mouthful."

  
"We could shorten in to Nestad. Full name: Pânannestad."

  
"What does it mean?"

  
"It's Sindarin for Time Heals All."

  
"You may insist on Pânannestad. I shall call him Nessie." the blond grunted and resumed far more pleasurable actions than thinking.

 

* * *

 

  
"Is it wise to ride today?" Éomer said when coming up behind Faramir in the stables putting on the saddle and reins on his mare.

  
"You know that I am completely recovered, don't you?" the Ranger asked rhetorically trying not to feel too exasperated by the imitation of a mother hen by his love.

  
"Are you certain? Maybe you should..."

  
"I should... What?"

  
"Take it easy. Perhaps?"

  
The Captain glanced around to see if there was no one besides them there and prowled closer to the horse lord.

  
"Maybe I should." he seductively murmured. "Maybe I shouldn't. After all... I feel indebted to you, love."

  
The Prince tensed at those lowly whispered words, making the hairs on his body prickle and his flesh rise.

  
"Indebted?" he rasped.

  
"Aye. For taking such good care of me for all those months of recovery." the Gondorian continued and let the tips of his fingers graze softly over Éomer's chest. Halting momentarily above the clothed nipples, gently went downwards and rubbed harder over the strong muscles. Clasping the sides roughly and pulling the other man against him.

  
"Don't you think that deserves a little... More?"

  
"More??" the Marshall stuttered. Blood rapidly flowing downwards and leaving him slower on the uptake than other times.

  
The ex-Steward, feeling very daring and aroused that moment, pushed Éomer against a wooden beam. Trapping him effectively between his own body and the wood. He slipped his thigh between the two strong legs in front of him and deliciously rubbed against something he had a craving for.

  
"You've bathed this morning?"

  
"Bathed?" the blond stammered again. "Yes, I have. What's that..."

  
But the smaller man had already interrupted him by gripping his hips strongly.

  
"Turn around, my love." he commanded in a low and guttural voice.

  
Éomer could not have turned around any faster without hurting himself and slapped his hands against the beam.

  
"Drop you breeches and lean forward."

  
The horse master did not understand where this was going, though he obeyed nonetheless.

  
"So beautiful. So very perfect and delicious." Faramir murmured making the other man groan in pleasure at hearing the compliments.

  
"Touch me." he tried not to make it sound as begging but it did sound as such.

  
"Oh, I will." and the Ranger kneeled on the floor, letting his hands rub up and down the trembling thighs and spreading those lovely arse cheeks apart.

  
"I'm going to taste you." and that was the only warning the blond got.

  
With a swipe of a hot tongue over his twitching soft pucker he lost all ability for speech and just moaned like a wanton whore. His cock twitching hard and aching. Straining.

  
Faramir did not waste any time and after several broad licks with the flat of his tongue he wetted the little hole and slowly fucked it with the tip of his tongue.

  
Only a couple seconds of that left the horse lord gasping for air and he shivered tremendously. Keeping a white knuckled hold of the wood in front of him in order not to collapse. The copper haired man halted the debauching of his lover and if the Captain's memory served him right... There should be something there when he did this. With a filthy pop his finger left his mouth completely wet and he touched the twitching and eager star in front of him and pressed it slowly in.

  
All muscles and nerves in the strong body of the Prince seized and locked up in an attempt to process the intrusion he so welcomed in his body. Faramir grinned and curled the finger against a certain place that made Éomer  whiten out and roar loudly. He tried grasping the base of his member in order to refrain from coming but it was of no use.

  
Completely untouched on his cock he came hard and kept coming and when he blinked the sweat out of his eyes he tried to remember his own name.

  
"You're still hard?" the Gondorian remarked with a victorious smile.

  
"I..."

  
"I'll see you later, all right? I shall be riding today. Bye, love." and the Ranger kissed his befuddled lover hard before leaving.

  
"Yes, riding." Éomer echoed. Noticing how his pants were still pooled around his ankles and he lifted them up.

  
"Riding." he repeated "Wait! What? Faramir!"

 

* * *

 

  
"You are truly shifty this evening." the sworn shield commented while keeping a steady gaze on his hand filling his plate.

  
"And you, my friend, are truly distracting." Éomer grunted back. Still somewhat annoyed at the trick his lover had played on him to distract him so he could go out riding.

  
"Not my fault you fell for it. And you fell for it so prettily." Faramir replied with a short hungry glaze making the horse lord decidedly uncomfortable in a pleasant way.

  
"I have no words..." the Marshall whispered lowly as to not be overheard at the dining table "... for the magic you worked on me earlier that day." he stated while flushing embarrassedly.  
The Captain hummed in agreement and shoved a piece of deliciously roasted potato in his mouth.

  
"Would you..." Éomer tried continuing but the words got stuck in his throat.

  
"Would I what?"

  
"Nothing." and he shyly pierced a sausage on his fork.

  
"Would I what, Éomer?" the Gondorian asked exasperatedly.

  
Completely mortified the blond dared not raise his eyes out of fear for being out right laughed at.

  
"Wuldyawantorepeatet?" came completely gargled from his mouth.

  
"I beg your pardon. I did not quite catch that." a now bemused Faramir said.

  
"What. Would. I have to do. To make you. Want to. Repeat. That." and again with the ridiculous flushing. Éomer sank lower on the bench in humiliation and hid his flaming face behind his hair. He had never before asked Faramir to do anything sexual. Always waiting on the older man's lead and now he felt foolish for even asking this. Wondering why he thought he had any right to ask such a thing.

  
The Ranger understood how big of a deal this asking was. It being the first time and all that and noticed how frightened the horse lord looked to be at hearing the expected response.  
"You need only ask, Éomer."

  
That made the Marshall hopefully look up.

 

* * *

 

  
With a long guttural groan he slumped down on the bed. Face first. The wetness beneath him sticking his just spent, but still aching member to the sheets.

  
"This is getting ridiculous." he moaned horrified.

  
"Aye. This is remarkable." Faramir stated when he slowly withdrew his two finger from Éomer 's behind.

  
"I barely touch you and you just..."

  
"Shoot all over myself. No need to rub it in."

  
"It's peculiar."

  
"Let's ignore what I said and rub it in." Éomer sarcastically grunted.

  
"Are you still?"

  
"Yes. I'm again. Completely stiff. Even after... That."

  
"I wonder if..."

  
"You wonder what?" the horse master asked.

  
"Nothing. It's not appropriate."

  
"Not appropriate? You just had your fingers up my arse. That's clear line of appropriateness crossed there."

  
"Would... You once said..." the Ranger faltered but the Marshall remembered.

  
"That I wanted you to mount me."

  
A heavy silence descended until the more experienced man hesitatingly asked.

  
"Would you still... Want that?"

  
"Oh God, yes!" Éomer groaned and pushed himself up again on his knees. Displaying his buttocks promptly in the Captain's face.

  
"N... N... Now!?" Faramir shouted.

  
"Yes. Take me. I want you. Again.... And you still have not..."

  
"You want me to... To do that. To you? Now?"

  
"Do I have to make myself even more clear?" the Prince groaned frustratingly.

  
"Maybe you should." the ex-Steward smiled down while his eyes never left the inviting pucker looking up at him.

  
"I swear to the God, Faramir! If your cock is not in my arse in the next five minutes, I shall be a very bloody fucking angry Rohirrim!"

  
No more words were needed after that and after preparing the overly sensitive horse lord another couple of minutes, Faramir slowly slid behind the man.

  
"You are certain?"

  
Éomer, by then, a puddle of want just groaned his assent. Once again. And the Ranger slowly pushed in. The head easily popping passed the stretched ring of muscle and he stilled. Gently rubbing the sides of the man beneath him.

  
"Does it hurt? I can stop. Are you in pain?" he asked slightly panicky. Reminded of how hurtful it has always felt for him.

  
"No. It feels so very good. Go deeper."

  
The copper haired man did so slowly. Inch for inch and he heavily started to shiver. Muscles strained by the immense effort of controlling himself. When Éomer could center himself more easily than before, he was very glad that he already got one out of the way, he noticed the strongly shaking man behind him.

  
"Faramir? Are _you_ all right?" he asked trying to look behind him and saw the Ranger desperately clutching his eyes closed.

  
"What's the matter?" the Marshall started panicking and seeing the normally so controlled Captain fall apart. "Why are you not looking?"

  
"I can't." Faramir rasped out. Almost hurting his throat by the sudden dryness in his throat when speaking. "My control is... Not so..."

  
Éomer smirked, it seems the roles were reversed for once and he gently thrusted himself backwards. Making his lover slide further in.

  
"DON'T!" the Ranger bellowed. His fingers were surely bruising the horse master's hips by now but both men had other things on their mind.

  
"I can't... I won't. Hurt. You."

  
"You won't."

  
"You don't know how it can be." Faramir nearly wailed.

  
"It's not like that. I love you. I love this. Your cock feels wonderful and I need more of it like ten minutes ago."

  
"I don't think. I can. Stop. Once I've started."

  
"Then don't."

  
"You don't..." but those words of uncertainty got clipped off when Éomer  gripped behind him, took the Gondorian's side and pulled them together making the Captain completely bottom out. His mouth dropped open feeling completely overwhelmed when he felt his sack rubbing against the other man's own.

  
"Fuck!" and unknowingly clawed the back in front of him.

  
"Yes. Fuck me!" and the Marshall leaned back up, turned his head and passionately tangled their tongues together.

  
Faramir's eyes snapped open and they were a blazing inferno.

  
"You'll regret this." he grunted as only warning and grabbed a handful of blond hair pushing the head back down. All the way into the pillow and thrusted once experimentally.

  
Twice to scout the feeling.

  
The third thrust had him abandoning every measure of restraint and soon he was pounding wildly into the man of Rohan under him.

  
"Yes!" he shouted "Take it!"

  
His iron hard cock brushing passed the special place inside the Marshall making him almost shriek like a woman. Éomer had to bite the pillow to stop the flow of embarrassed sounds leaving his throat.

  
"You wanted this?!" the Gondorian shouted.

  
"YES! YES!"

  
"Such a wanton slut for my cock." Faramir grunted and his rhythm faltered for a moment but he could not stop the uncontrollable movement of his hips.

  
"I'm sorry. I did not..." another low groan "... Know where that. Came from!" an extra hard shove had them plastered together. Back to chest. Arse to loins.

  
"I don't mind." Éomer moaned. "Want to be your little cockslut." and then heat was once again rushing up his body.

  
"Oh. So tight!" the sworn shield panted and sunk in even harder.

  
"Far. I'm coming. Far!"

  
"Almost! Yes! FUCK! FUCK! ÉOMER !!"

  
And when the horse lord felt his insides being coated with hot wetness he lost the battle himself and sprayed the sheets under him again. There was less now, but still enough to make the whole matter more sticky than before.

  
Faramir had collapsed and was crushing the taller man between his body and the bed. With a small effort on his side, the Marshall made them move to their sides and spoon. The now soft cock slipped out of him with a wet noise and he sighed sadly. It had felt nice to be filled up so good. The trickle of something seeping out of him on the other hand felt disquieting and he stood up with a grunt to clean himself up at the water basin in the corner of the room.

  
When he was clean he turned around to joke with his lover but the Ranger was already sound asleep.

  
With a smile he gently sponged of his love and dosed the candles. Crawled in besides the softly snoring body and let himself be swiftly carried away in the arms of sleep itself.

 

* * *

 

  
"How is my favorite godson doing?" the Ranger jovially exclaimed when visiting the chambers of Éowyn.

  
Éomer followed him inside and wryly said "Favorite and only. That makes him the least favorite too at the same time."

  
Faramir glowered briefly at him before leaning over the crib and pulling faces towards the little princling.

  
"I called you both to share the news. I'm pregnant."

  
The Captain stilled the entertainment for his godson and looked up delightedly.  
"Congratulations! That's wonderful!" he smiled.

  
"Again?" the horse lord shouted. "You two decided you can't wait?" he tried to joke and sat down letting out a low hiss when feeling his sore arse meet the hard surface of the chair.  
The Queen, ready to pick up all small signs, smiled back at her Marshall.

  
"Neither can you, brother. So it would seem."

  
Making both men flush uncomfortably and her to throw back her head and laugh loudly.

 

* * *

 

  
Éomer found Faramir on top of the guard tower where the Ranger had scolded him for the first time.  
And saw his Captain soak up the last bit of sun before the complete sunset.

  
The ex-Steward felt two strong arms embrace him from behind and immediately melted against the trusted form behind him.

  
Soft kisses trailed up the back of his neck when the blond muttered "Enjoying the view of Rohan?"

  
"I always do, my love. There is no desire to be found in my soul to ever part with this beautiful country. Any chance of making me a real part of the Rohirrim even though I'm not born and bred here?" Faramir joked.

  
The Marshall's arms tightened for a second and he released a nervous breath.  
"You could..." and tried to repress the slight shivering in his frame "... You could always marry one." He whispered.

  
The silence stretched with unsaid words.

  
"Aye, I could." Faramir finally said warmly. "Do you have any recommendations? I do have a certain type." and turned around in the befuddled horse master's arms.

  
"He must be kind, intelligent, a giving lover, good kisser and blond. I do so love long blond hair."

  
Éomer growled and kissed Faramir's mouth hotly. making a path down with warm kisses from his mouth to his neck and tongued the soft skin in the junction between neck and shoulder.

  
"You could marry me." he almost pants out against that smooth piece of skin.

  
"Aye. I could." Faramir repeated.

 

* * *

 

 

And they did.

  
The End.

 

 


End file.
